


Kitten

by TheSmutFaries



Series: Smut Anthology [3]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-08-20 07:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmutFaries/pseuds/TheSmutFaries
Summary: It's funny how something as simple as a cute kitten can bring two people together





	1. First

He had resolved that he was to be a bachelor. At the age of Toeing His Prime and One Step Away From Being A Male Spinster, Ichabod Crane couldn't help but wonder: _What exactly was a male spinster called? Would people judge him for doing embroidery and knitting all day in a rocking chair next to a fireplace?_

He blinked in thought as he contemplated his curiosity. Then he pulled out his phone to _Google it. _He frowned when _bachelor or confirmed bachelor_ was the best he could hope for. Both apparently heavily implied he was actually gay.

Not that he was. Or not that he wasn't exactly. While he wouldn't say no to a handsome and charming gentleman, he wasn't actively pursuing relations with men. He, of course, was using his musings to deflect from responding to his mother's text of: _Ichabod met a cute girl at the market. Can I give her your number?_

_ **No mother. I live in America now. It wouldn't be logical to find a partner in England.** _

_How about this. I found an adorable gentleman in Newark that is looking for love. Would that be more to your tastes? I saw him on an app called Tinder._

His mother was accepting if nothing else, Ichabod thought with a smirk. Well, accepting of anything except the fact _he didn't wish to get involved_ at the moment. Blimey. He had been on the verge of getting engaged just four months past! He didn't want to rush headlong into another relationship.

_I'll never have grandchildren at this rate, Ichabod! Even if they are adopted I will love them all the same!_

_ **Not my problem, mother. You should have had more children.** _

_When are you visiting?_

He wanted to say never again because he knew if he gave a definitive date, she would casually arrange for numerous 'unplanned’ visitors to show at the house. She would feign surprise or claim she 'forgot’ they were visiting. But somehow they would all be lovely, intelligent, _and single._ All of them ludicrously shorter than he because she had a distrust of any woman over 5”3’.

Ichabod paused next to the _adoptable pets_ and stared at wriggling happy pups and frolicking kittens. One little creature in particular caught his attention because it was staring right at him, wobbling gently when it yawned. He had been debating adopting a cat. Specifically a black cat because he knew they were less likely to be adopted.

This was the first time he had seen an actual black cat at the shop and he knew they partnered with the local shelters and humane societies. The kitten tilted her head, placed a paw against her cage door, and she meowed softly. He was immediately head-over-heels in love. He knew, without a doubt, that he wanted to adopt the little darling.

And, his mother had said “even if they're adopted”...

Ichabod strode over to the young woman with a volunteer smock on. “Excuse me Miss,” he said carefully. 

The young woman turned and smiled at his chest, blinked in confusion, then looked up to beam the smile at him. “Oh, there you are,” she said with a shy grin. “Way up there… What can I help you with?”

“I would like to adopt that little angel,” he said, indicating the little dear staring at him. 

“Sure thing,” she replied and swept to the cage.

In less than a minute, in his massive hands, was the tiniest little black kitten. They had seemed so much bigger when peering through the glass at the cages. It had big blue eyes and was still covered with its kitten fuzz. Ichabod brought the kitten closer to his face, grinning when it touched its nose to his before licking at his nose.

He knew on that moment he would murder anyone who hurt this kitten. Himself included. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

The volunteer had her hands on her belly and a wistful look on her face. She muttered something about not needing her ovaries anyway then brightly replied, “That one is a little girl. The last one in a litter that was bottle fed by their foster. They say she is absolutely a cuddler.”

Ichabod cradled the baby to his chest and smiled. “And I promise she will continue to be cared for with such care. I think I shall call her Jane Austen Crane.”

“Fantastic! Let me get the paperwork and--” The volunteer fell silent as another woman joined them.

“Zoe, I’ll take care of the paperwork; why don’t you make sure this adorable little kitten has all her vet records ready and put together the starter kit for…” her voice trailed off as she shook Ichabod's free hand.

“Crane. Ichabod Crane,” he replied. 

“Elizabeth Ross. I’m the general manager,” she said. Ichabod smiled wide - she was dressed almost like a naughty librarian, what with her bright white shirt and khaki colored pencil skirt. Her heels put her almost at his height, something of an interesting novelty. Her brown hair was pinned behind her ears to fall down to her shoulders in a fetching manner as its curls reflected the fluorescent lights above, and her smile seemed a little mischievous. 

Ichabod turned her hand in his and pressed a quick, dry kiss on her knuckles. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Ross,” he murmured, and just as planned Elizabeth appeared enchanted. Amazing what a few archaic manners would do in the modern world. 

“Oh my,” Elizabeth murmured. “Let's leave your new kitten in the care of Miss Zoe and step into my office. That way we can… talk in private.”

“I am fond of conversation,” he rumbled, and gently handed Jane over to Miss Zoe and followed Elizabeth to her office, unable to notice the sway of her hips as her pencil skirt cradled her pert posterior. If he was reading her signals right, she wanted to do more than fill out paperwork.

Then again he was terrible at reading signals. Maybe he was wrong. Katrina had always said he was an idiot to reading her signals when she wanted to get romantic. However, his friends online had been helping him to recognize said signals: _Provocative dress, batting her lashes demurely, suggesting they go somewhere more private_. He had been in and out of the pet shop numerous times, debating the idea of adopting a cat. He had noticed her every time.

She always dressed lovely, albeit in slightly snug clothing. She obviously just liked dressing sexy. She was just trying to be nice. Perhaps she picked up on his being uncomfortable and was just trying to get him in a place he would be more comfortable? He reasoned it would, perhaps, be more suitable to let her take the lead.

He followed her into her office, turning when she closed the door behind him. The lock clicked as she leaned against the door, a hungry gleam in her eyes. Ichabod swallowed hard, his heart in his throat. On second thought, maybe she wanted to get him alone so she could devour him whole.

Her dark eyes roamed over his tall frame as she gently sucked on her bottom lip. Ichabod was about to speak when she grinned wickedly and approached rapidly. He staggered back against the desk as her lips met his hungrily. Her fingers drifted down the front of his sweater then tugged the button up beneath from his trousers.

She pulled back after a moment and blinked at him. “Oh, sorry, did I misread… I've seen you checking me out for the past two months and thought...”

Ichabod took her face in his hands and silenced her with a kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck and clamored up his frame to straddle his hips as they tugged at each other's clothing. All in all it was a very fun ten minutes spent against the wall and on her desk. 

He would’ve gone for round three but Elizabeth weakly - yet reluctantly - tapped out before they started the paperwork. 

“I don’t…” she said afterwards, her face still flushed. “I don't normally do this kind of thing.” Guilt washed over her face. 

“Nor do I,” Ichabod said softly, watching the way she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. She ducked her head shyly when he gave her a gentle smile. Spontaneous Ichabod seemed to be working out very well indeed! Perhaps he could even get her number and, if he was lucky, they could have dinner this weekend. 

He was already visualizing his proposal in a year and a half when...

“I just hope my husband doesn't find out,” she sighed. “Pretty sure this isn't what he meant by my needing to be more spontaneous.”

“You’re married,” he said flatly as the other shoe finally dropped. His mind did a quick rewind. _Married_.

He generally preferred being in a solid relationship with anyone he entangled with but his online friends insisted he needed to try being more _outgoing_ and spontaneous. It sort of figured that the first time he got the nerve to do so, the other person would be married.

Elizabeth looked at him as the paperwork printed across the room. “Is that a problem?” 

“Yes, I don’t wish to be the reason a home is broken,” Ichabod said as he buttoned his shirt and tucked it into his pants. His friends had lain it in his brain that perhaps he was over-complicating the relationship front. They insisted that _casual encounters_ were a thing he could partake in. But thus far he just felt guilty and dirty.

“It would have nothing to do with you,” she said dryly.

“Clearly.” Ichabod pulled on his sweater and accepted the paperwork. Ichabod’s feelings crumbled but he kept a brave face. After all, he seemed to have the most unfortunate habit of getting involved with women he had no business getting involved with. Elizabeth would just be one of the ones he should have left alone.

_Don’t go doing that again, old boy_, he thought. 

Ichabod knew he had a horrible, inconvenient tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve. He was the sort that fell in love rather easily. However, despite regularly getting his heart broken and trampled upon, he was still optimistic that there could possibly be love to be found for him somewhere in the world.

Just obviously not with Elizabeth Ross.

“You look disappointed,” Elizabeth said quietly. “To be honest I wouldn't blame you if you were.”

Ichabod merely smiled before he leaned in to give her a kiss. _Leave them wanting more_, he thought. _Even when ‘more’ was not something they would be having_. “Of course not; you were magnificent. It's a pity we will never have the chance to see if this would flourish.”

Elizabeth inhaled deeply and fanned her face. “Ditto,” she breathed before she shook herself out of whatever thoughts had captured her mind. “Let’s get out to the register before someone sends a search party.”

It wasn't a wholly unpleasant experience, Ichabod thought as he waited in line to fetch his new kitten. Within minutes he was toting Jane Austen Crane around in his shirt pocket as he picked out more toys and supplies to accompany the starter kit for his new baby. Once to his car, he even took a selfie and sent it to his mother with the message: _**Meet your new granddaughter, Jane Austen Crane.**_

To say his mother was unamused was an understatement.

It didn't stop him from making and posting videos and pictures galore. So far the favourite was of her standing in her food bowl making a loud _omnomnomnom_ sound as she feasted upon wet food that got all over her face and front legs. She was by far the most precious kitten alive, in his opinion.

He kept her cradled to his chest as he did his nightly work on his computer and was eternally grateful he didn't have to leave his home to work. She was so tiny, he feared leaving her alone would frighten her.

It was somewhere in the early hours of the morning, he started looking for local photographers. Having been inspired by a few other pet owners and his amusing online mates, he had decided to do a photoshoot for Jane as though she were a human baby. After much consideration, he settled on a photographer that actually had done photoshoots of people with their new pets.

There were so many who offered services for pets or people with their pets. He hadn’t anticipated so much of a choice. 

Ichabod began to scroll when Jane yawned deeper than her tiny body would lead one to believe possible and yowled softly as she tilted her head up at him, twisting her little body around so she could attempt to claw her way out of the pocket.

Maybe the search could wait.

~*~

Abbie was fond of jobs that required her to be gone overnight or over the weekend. Because she was a regular at this particular place, she had gotten a good deal on a suite with a kitchen in it.

It boasted a big, fluffy king-size bed. The warm bed partner was often optional but welcome.

Abbie hummed as she felt warm lips on her neck and nimble fingers trailing down her side. “Hmm. You're an amazing cuddler, LeAnn,” she murmured, huddling deeper into the toned arms of the groom's sister. It seemed she would always be a sucker for strong arms.

LeAnn Johnson was a member of the wedding party Abbie had done the day before. Tall, broad shouldered, dressed like a gentleman to be her brother's best man. She lived in the mountains in Colorado with her St Bernard, ran a small ski lodge, and ticked all of Abbie's boxes for a perfect mate.

Except one crucial box. She lived halfway across the country.

If it had been Upstate New York, Abbie would have had expectations beyond a beautiful weekend affair. Instead she was going to have to let this soft, gorgeous, mountain-dwelling butch sweep in and out of her life. 

Which was kind of sad because LeAnn could bench press her with ease. The kind of ease that made Abbie want to squeal out “Carry me off to Valhalla my beautiful Valkyrie!” and spend the rest of her days cuddled up in front of a big roaring fireplace in the mountains, raising st bernard's. Actually, she was pretty sure she said that after she realized LeAnn was flirting with her at the reception. And LeAnn had picked her up and put her over her shoulder.

_God_, why did LeAnn have to be so perfect and live in Colorado?

Abbie hummed against LeAnn's lips. “Shouldn't we be getting showers and getting ready to check out?” she grinned.

“There's always time to make love one last time,” LeAnn said softly. “Besides, I have to make you breakfast.”

Abbie couldn't argue with that logic. She liked that logic.

~*~

_Amazing Grace Photography_. Owned and operated by one Grace Abigail Mills of Sleepy Hollow. 

Ichabod clicked through the online portfolio with interest. It was impressive to say the least and much more varied than the others he had looked at. She did your run of the mill family shoots, of course. She also had a backlog of fantasy shoots featuring fairies, swashbucklers in airships, mermaids, and other fantastical creatures. There was even one that featured a little boy and his puppy as fighter pilots in a vintage plane.

Her competitors looked basic and drab in comparison. She probably charged a fortune. So naturally, Ichabod went straight to the contact section to fill out the information to get a quote. Within seconds of hitting send he had received an automated message.

_Thank you for putting in a quote request with Amazing Grace Photography. We process our requests in the order they are received. Our office hours are Monday-Friday 8am to 5pm and Saturday 9am to 4pm. If you haven't received a return message or a phone call within 24 hours, please give us a call during business hours at (914) 631-4497. We look forward to working with you!_

“I'm certain her fees and packages will not please my mother one bit,” he murmured before giving Jane a kiss between her ears. Sometimes he amused himself with the extremes he went to out of pure pettiness.

He peddled around on the website then the media sites. Part of him was curious as to what Miss Mills looked like. The only “self-portrait” he could find was of her silhouetted against the sun in a field, arms stretched out over her head, emphasizing her curvaceous figure.

Even her media accounts were woefully vacant of photos of herself. Although he was rather amused to find she followed both Hot Dudes with Kittens and Girls in Yoga Pants on Instagram.

Hopefully he would hear back soon.

~*~

“Tsk, tsk,” Jenny said sadly as Abbie rolled her eyes and shut her front door with a short kick. “Good morning,” she chirped cheerfully.

“Any calls?” she asks, ignoring the look on her sister’s face.

“No, but I haven’t done a social media check yet.” Jenny’s smile turned evil as she scrambled after her sister, up the stairs and through her bedroom door without knocking. “That’s all you’re going to say?” she asked as Abbie sat on her bed and unzipped her boots. When she stood again it was at a height several inches shorter.

“What do you want me to say,” Abbie asked. “So I can go ahead and say it.”

“Man, the walk of shame makes you cranky,” Jenny quipped, grinning wider when Abbie glared back.

“Grow up - I’m an adult and can sleep with whomever I want. It’s not a walk of shame,” she fired back. 

“True,” Jenny drawled, “but it makes it less fun to mess with you about.” She hummed as Abbie turned her back, and as she removed her shirt Jenny could see what looked like a hickey on her sister’s usually pristine skin. “Guess I don’t have to ask how the Johnson shoot went.”

Abbie smirked over her shoulder. “She had legs for days,” she said, smiling at the memory of parting LeAnn Johnson’s thighs. “Tall… broad shoulders… She was damn near perfect.”

“Did the carpet at least match the drapes?”

Abbie groaned. “Get out,” she said half-heartedly. “Get out.”

Jenny threw up her hands. “Fine,” she said. “‘I’ll be downstairs checking social media.”

“Great, actually doing what I pay you for,” Abbie deadpanned.

“Your words, they wound,” Jenny said flatly as she flipped her sister off and went back downstairs. Twenty minutes later Abbie entered the home office smelling of her usual almond and coconut oils, not a hair out of place, in a pretty and modest yellow dress. Perfect for a day of doing family portraits. 

Jenny watched Abbie pretend not to notice her staring as she unpacked her photography gear and began breaking down her camera. Abbie abruptly sighed. “Why are you staring at me?” she snapped.

“Can’t a girl stare at her beautiful sister?” Jenny asked, and laughed at Abbie’s incredulous face. “You’re right, no point in pretending you’re the prettier sister.”

“God, why did I hire you again?”

Jenny scoffed. “Because before I came along you had a drab business card and advertised from a facebook profile.”

Abbie winced. “To be fair it was a business facebook page.”

“You’re not helping your cause,” Jenny said. 

“So what’s the problem?” Abbie asked. “For the past few months you’ve been like some sort of morality police, which is awfully rich coming from you considering you consider it poor taste to call someone back.”

“I guess I deserved that,” Jenny said, tapping a few keys on her laptop. “But that’s me, Abs. Always has been. You, on the other hand have always had the heart of a monogamist. Tell me I’m lying.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Abbie said instead.

“Am I? Ever since - “

“Say his name and I won’t be held liable for what I do next,” Abbie said, her body almost unnaturally still.

Jenny’s eyes widened and she raised her hands in surrender. “I like it when you make my point for me,” she said. “You have to admit, once you came out of the depression stage, you've sort of turned into a hoe.”

Abbie sighed and shook her head as she moved to put her lenses away. “I still gotta grab my umbrellas from the car,” she said as she stalked off.

“Abbie, wait,” Jenny cried as she ran around the desk and after her sister. Considering how short the woman was, it required a burst of speed on Jenny’s part to catch up with her sister, and it was still at the garage. “You’ve got two inquiries and the McMillans want to reschedule for next week instead of tomorrow.”

Abbie sighed heavily as Jenny began helping her remove the heavier pieces of her equipment from her car. The umbrellas were first, followed by their stands and the extremely heavy backdrop roll that required both of them to pull out of her jeep and set it in its holder against the garage wall.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone else,” Abbie finally said.

“No,” Jenny agreed. “You have to explain yourself to _you_,” she said softly. “I do know this isn't you.”

Abbie finally looked at her sister and softened, just slightly. She knew Jenny cared, and could only be herself even if that meant she leaned heavily into the annoying sister identity. But that was no excuse to call her out like she was. “Do we have a spot for the McMillans? It’s going to take at least four hours with them and I’d rather not have to give their deposit back.”

Jenny nodded shortly. “I can put them on next Thursday, you’re completely free so far.”

“Good.” Abbie cleared her throat. “I’ll take a look at those inquiries in a minute.” She hesitated. “I know I give you shit sometimes, but I couldn’t have done this without you. I was able to quit my job and do this full time because of you.”

“I know,” Jenny said before she laughed and dodged Abbie’s swipe. “If you want to apologize you can get me Starbucks.”

“I ain’t say all that,” Abbie drawled as she slammed her trunk closed. “But Starbucks sounds good. Yeah, I’ll make a run.”

“And maybe you’ll swing by O'Shaughnessy's for two bacon cheeseburgers and a pound of steak fries?” Jenny wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Before Abbie could protest her stomach growled. Sure, LeAnn was gorgeous but she couldn’t cook worth a damn. What kind of heathen made boiled eggs with runny yolk? “Fine,” she said. “You put all this up then call in our order so I don’t have to wait all day.”

“What am I, your secretary?” Jenny grumbled as she began stacking the umbrellas in her arms.

“Uh, yeah,” Abbie joked, walking around the car to the driver seat. “Remember?”

Jenny grumbled and flipped her off again as she went back into the house, smiling as Abbie backed out the garage with a cackle.

~*~

When Ichabod woke, it was to his mobile phone ringing and purring next to his ear.

Ichabod clamoured for his phone, doing his best not to disturb Jane from her nest in the curve of his neck.

“This is Ichabod Crane, how may I be of service?” he greeted gently.

There was a surprised _oh_ on the other end followed by a sweet voice. “Hello. This is Abbie Mills with Amazing Grace Photography. I saw you had put in a request for a quote.”

“Indeed I did, Miss Mills,” Ichabod replied. 

“Could you tell me what you had in mind? How many people? What kind of theme?” Miss Mills asked. “That way I can get you in the perfect slot and an accurate quote.”

Ichabod felt his face flushing as he admitted, “I wish to do a photoshoot of my new kitten as though it were an adoption announcement.”

He had expected her to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Instead she responded with a soft, _awww_. “I love pet adoption announcement shoots. So how old is your baby right now?”

“She is approximately six weeks,” he provided. 

“Oh my God,” Miss Mills breathed. “Does she still have her kitten fuzz?”

“She does,” Ichabod replied, feeling a lot less silly than he initially had when the woman made a smitten sound.

Miss Mills cleared her throat. “So it's just your kitten and yourself?”

“Unfortunately yes,” Ichabod said with a gentle sigh. “If all goes well with Jane, I have full intentions to get more cats. So we may very well have future photoshoots, Miss Mills, if this one goes well.”

“Her name is Jane?” Miss Mills squeaked. “That's so cute.”

Ichabod chuckled lightly. “Jane Austen Crane.”

“Oh my God, you gave her a full name. That's so _sweet_,” Abbie whispered. She took a moment to rein herself in. “Well, I would like to get an appointment in before she loses her fuzz, of course. Did you have any setting or location in mind?”

“My apartment, if you do not mind,” Ichabod said. “I have a personal balcony and plenty of delightful decor available if necessary. And if it would put you at ease, please bring someone along with you.”

“Okay, thank you, but… I have a feeling that won't be necessary,” Abbie stated. “Last question… what color is little Jane? That way I know what kind of lighting and props I will need.”

“She is a fully black kitten with big blue eyes,” he provided.

“She sounds absolutely adorable,” Miss Mills said. “I have up to three hours available on Wednesday morning between 9am through noon. I charge seventy-five dollars per hour and I typically recommend at least two hou-”

“I will take all three hours,” Ichabod stated.

“That’s… $225,” Miss Mills said slowly. “That's not including price for prints.”

“Having viewed your online portfolio, I'd say it's worth every penny, Miss Mills,” Ichabod replied.

She laughed softly. “Thank you. Well, I'll put Jane Austen Crane down for adoption announcements for this Wednesday for three hours. And that's the day after tomorrow.”

“We look forward to meeting you, Miss Mills,” Ichabod murmured. 

“And I look forward to meeting the two of you as well, Mister Crane,” Miss Mills said softly. She had sounded almost breathless.

Ichabod rang off and set his phone next to him on the bed. He grinned as he felt little Jane stretch herself over his neck and so he delicately rubbed behind her ears. It wasn't much longer and he was on his side, watching Jane haunch down with big eyes, ears laid back, as his fingers wriggled beneath the bedsheet. She leapt onto her feet, bounced around his hand, then pounced on his fingers.

He knew in his heart of hearts that, no matter what his mother thought, Jane was his child now. His sweet, sharp clawed child. He ended up spending a majority of his day in bed playing with his new baby. When they were not in bed, she was trying as hard as she could to scamper behind him through his flat, running into then attacking his ankles when he stopped abruptly.

Most curiously, however, was when he received an alert that one _Abbie Mills_ had mutually followed him on Instagram.

~*~

So her curiosity had gotten the best of her. And now Abbie Mills was laying in bed thinking about her new client. Or rather her client's daddy. She had taken a peek at his Instagram--which he had contacted her from, thank you, she wasn't _hunting_ him down. Because that would be weird and invasive and kind of stalkery.

She had found herself clicking through the pictures he had posted of Jane and himself. She had watched a video of Jane eagerly feasting herself on wet food as her daddy affectionately cooed. Abbie's heart had melted. She had laughed at what she could only assume was his mother's annoyed reactions.

Secretly, Abbie wondered if the whole reason for the photoshoot was to further incent his mother's irritation of _pets cannot be real grandchildren!_

Abbie begged to differ. In a world full of people and couples that didn't want children or to get married, pets very much filled the role of children in their lives. The bond was unmistakable. It was part of the reason she featured pet adoption shoots. That and it was fulfilling to her to provide something so special to pet parents.

Ichabod Crane was good-looking, no doubt about that. How and why he was single was a mystery even to Abbie. While inadvertently scrolling through his Instagram, she saw pictures of him and a pretty red-head. Abbie pursed her lips and went forward a few pics to find a photo of himself sipping from a mug of beer. In the background was the red-head and a tall, muscular blond man. _That feeling when she leaves you for your best mate on New Year's. But I suppose it's only fair since she left him for me six years ago. Not like I had planned to propose at midnight or anything. I wish them all the best! Cheers!_

Her heart ached a little for him. He seemed like a sweet guy. Hell his voice was hot enough to melt butter on a cold winter's day.

Shit. She was supposed to be formulating ideas for the shoot, not lusting after the man. Abbie scribbled on her notepad. _1\. Swaddled baby aka adorable purrito. Miniature headband with flowers._

Yes. She had a miniature headband with flowers. Both kitten and puppy sized. The shots were much easier with kittens because they tended to sleep _a lot._ Her heart suddenly jostled when she pictured little Jane cradled in her daddy's hands.

_2\. Parent and baby. Cradled affectionately in hands._

God, this shoot was going to be torture. Handsome, single, super affectionate toward his new kitten. _3\. Parent and baby in bed, cuddling_. He looked like a giant compared to Jane. Big men cuddling kittens was one of Abbie's biggest weaknesses. Hell she actively followed the Hot Dudes with Kittens Instagram.

She jumped slightly when Jenny let herself in with a greeting of “What's up?” She peered over Abbie's shoulder. “Who the hell is that?”

Abbie shook her head as she closed the tab. “A… A new client. He booked _three hours_ to do a pet adoption shoot with his new kitten.”

Jenny groaned and laughed. “What is it with you and guys with kittens? Is this one at least single?”

“As far as I can tell, yeah,” Abbie said with a shrug. “But that doesn't matter. I'm going to be keeping it professional.”

With a snort, Jenny drawled, “Sure you are. It's not like you don't do that cute little thing anytime you see a guy cuddling a kitten.” Her hands folded over her heart. “_Oh my, God. Your baby is so precious, can I hold her?_ And then you start cuddling the Kitten. And by time you finish the session, you've got a date for Friday night and you're doing the walk of shame on Saturday morning. Because there's nothing guys like more than a girl that adores his kitten.”

“That happened--”

“Three times so far in the past month,” Jenny offered. “Look, there's nothing wrong with it. I honestly get it. You're dealing with shit in your own way. Just admit it and be careful.”

Abbie stuck her tongue out at Jenny and, once Jenny had gone to her room, she reopened her tab. She could definitely foresee herself doing a walk of shame this coming Saturday if this guy was as charming as he looked. Taking a deep breath, Abbie muttered, “Keep it professional, Abbie.”

And that was exactly what she had planned. She would go in straight-laced and there would be no squeaking and cooing over the cute kitten. She would get the job done and be on her way. Instead she was going to have fun with pairing the cute kitten with pretty florals and pastels. 

And his apartment looked amazing! Lots of natural lighting and… she was looking at his personal photos again. And fantasizing him pinning her down in that big bed or, hell, just letting her sleep in it for a couple hours. 

Abbie sighed and closed out the tab. She would think about this tomorrow. She was too involved at the moment.


	2. Second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichabod meets his photographer. Fun is had by all

Ichabod was grateful his mother hadn't discovered video chat yet. Otherwise she would see him rolling his eyes so hard he was bordering going blind. It wasn't that he was being willfully disrespectful. It was just their relationship. They constantly gave each other crap. Its just lately his mother had been more insistent and pushy, rather than their normal playful banter.

He wasn't even sure what sparked it. Just one day, about three weeks after he and Katrina had split, she started on about him getting married and having children. And lord forbid he point out he had intended to propose to Katrina at the very party she dumped him at. _No Ichabod,_ his mother would say, _you should marry a_ decent _girl… or bloke. Whichever._

“It's a waste of money if you ask me,” she harped. 

“It's a good thing I didn't ask,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. The only reprieve he got was when Jane bounced across his desk chasing the feather toy he was dragging across the surface. She reared up on her hind legs, front paws waving, before leaping onto the tangle of tinsel and feathers repeatedly from every angle.

“Ichabod, doing this will devalue when you _do_ have children and want to do a photoshoot,” his mother insisted.

“Balderdash,” he scoffed. “It will not, mother and you know it. Besides, who's to say I ever have children, even if I do find a spouse I wish to have a family with? What if we decide we wish to be a crazy cat couple?”

“I feel like you're not taking me seriously, Ichabod,” mother deadpanned.

“Because I'm not,” he stated as the doorbell chimed. “The photographer is here.” He scooped Jane up and held her protectively against his chest. She immediately took to swatting and biting his shirt collar.

“Tell them you changed your mind,” his mother said. “Don't do this to me, Ichabod.”

He moved the microphone of his headset away as he opened the door. Immediately he felt his soul vacate his body. _She was lovely. _

“Ichabod Crane?” she greeted with a bright smile. When he nodded, she held out her hand. “Abbie Mills. It's so nice to meet you.”

_Is that the photographer, Ichabod? She sounds beautiful. Is she single? Does she want_ real_ children? Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea after all. Find out if she's single, Ichabod! How tall is she?_

Ichabod blinked for a moment then took her outstretched hand and kissed it. Good Lord, he couldn't stop staring! Thankfully Jane nibbled his chin and shook him out of his reverie. “Welcome Miss Mills, do come in and make yourself comfortable. I'm trying to get my--” he put the mouthpiece back in place “--incredibly nosey and overbearing mother off the phone.”

“_How tall is she, Ichabod_?!”

“I will speak to you later mother,” he stated with a heavy sigh. He didn't even wait for her to say goodbye before tapping the button to hang up and removed the headset. “I apologise, Miss Mills. She's been trying the last hour to convince me that this photoshoot is disrespectful to her and that it's a waste of money. May I offer you a drink?”

He watched as Miss Mills’ smile faded. “If you want to canc--”

“Oh, no, I do not wish to cancel,” he said lightly. His eyes swept over the petite woman. He could think of worse ways to spend the next three hours than with a beautiful woman as she photographed his kitten. “Not in the least.”

Miss Mills smiled once again, looking away shyly. Her eyes fell to his chest and he watched her face brighten. She bit her bottom lip for a moment before bobbing her head. “She's so adorable!” she proclaimed, her eyes dancing with delight. “May I?”

“Oh certainly,” Ichabod grinned, prying Jane from his sweater and handing her over to Miss Mills. He was struck jealous when Miss Mills cradled Jane against her cleavage and nuzzled Jane's head with her nose. Whether he was jealous of Miss Mills or Jane was up for debate as both had it pretty good at the moment. “Did you wish for a drink, Miss Mills? I have coffee, tea, various types of fizzy drinks…”

“Water is fine, thank you,” Miss Mills replied, looking up to beam at him. She followed him to the kitchen and took a seat at the small island as he prepared her drink. “Since we've got such a long session, I figured we could talk over some ideas before I got my equipment out of the car.”

Miss Mills set Jane on the counter and clicked her fingernails against the quartz tops. Jane arched her back and moved away on the tips of all four feet then bounced forward to pat at Miss Mills’ fingers. Jane's fantastic hunting prowess earned her gentle scratches down her spine.

“Aren't you just a vicious little murder muffin,” Miss Mills cooed, leaning down to nuzzle Jane's cheek. She squealed softly when Jane attacked her face with her tiny but rough tongue. "Ohhh I love her."

Ichabod set the glass down in front of Miss Mills, his heart aching at the display before him. When he had set up this appointment he had been unaware that she was so stunning. Although reviews by people had alluded to it, he was still pleasantly surprised. “You're the professional, Miss Mills, I am eager to hear your ideas.”

The next half hour was her showing him various poses she had done with kittens. He loved them all. He also liked how she leaned against him as she showed off past photographs and ideas from other websites. She also didn't seem to mind his peering over her shoulder and nestling himself close to her.

He was thoroughly intoxicated by the sweet flowery scent wafting up from her body. More than once he had to catch himself from nuzzling his nose against her neck. Spontaneous Ichabod seemed to be wanting to try his hand again. But he reined him in. After all, he didn't know if she was single. There was no ring but that didn't mean anything.

Once she had exhausted her ideas and they had laid out a game plan for the photoshoot, she grinned up at him. “I'll go get my things. I should only be a few minutes.”

She gave Jane kisses before handing her over to him. After he let her out, Ichabod looked down at Jane and grinned. “Perhaps this photoshoot will make my mother happy after all.”

~*~

By time Abbie returned to the apartment, bag of goodies, camera, and extra lighting in hand, Jane Austen Crane was settling down for post-play naps. _Perfect_, Abbie mused. Sleepy kittens were easier to turn into purritos.

Her heart ached longingly because Ichabod cradled Jane to his chest like she was a teeny tiny baby. She laid out a couple of scarves on the counter. “Did you want to go with a solid colour or florals?”

Instead he picked up a tiny flower headband and laughed softly. “You actually have a tiny headband for kittens. That is _adorable_.”

Abbie nodded. “I certainly do. It fits loose enough they don't really notice it. I actually have a few to choose from…” she reached into her bag and set out a handful of them, all featuring a different colour flowers.

“Where the heavens did you find these,” Ichabod whispered.

“I made most of them,” Abbie replied. “They don't really _make_ teeny tiny kitten size headbands. So I had to improvise.”

God, why did he have to have such a devilish smile and why was he focusing it on her? She was supposed to be _not_ trying to hook up with him. By the way things were looking, he was going to be walk of shame number four.

Ichabod wriggled his fingers and selected a cream colored lace band with a pink bow on it. He paired it with a rose colored scarf. The next was a band she had fashioned from the rope handle of a gift bag and dark pink rose made of fabric. He paired it with a lace, floral patterned scarf. Much to her surprise, he picked a third - a cute braided twine band with a little pink fabric flower on it.

She was pretty sure he would have been there all day just to see Jane in each and every combination imaginable. But he glanced in her direction, blushed then lightly pushed his selections toward her. “These should suffice.”

Abbie grinned. “There's no shame in being a proud and excited Daddy with such a cute baby.”

The resulting expression he made something inside of Abbie perk up. _And she certainly had not envisioned herself using the phrase “Fuck me good, Daddy’’ while bouncing back against him as he smacked her ass._

This was exactly what Jenny had warned her about. Maybe she _should have_ brought Jenny along. Not for her protection, but to squirt her with a goddamn spray bottle when she started lusting after the cute guy with the adorable kitten. The world was so cruel. 

“Is it often you get gentlemen wishing to pose with their kittens or is it primarily puppies,” Ichabod asked, rubbing Jane behind her ears. The kitten's eyes closed and she emitted the loudest purr as she weaved sleepily.

“To be honest, it's mostly puppies from both sides. Kittens and cats are mostly a woman thing,” Abbie said. “But I have a small weakness for sexy men with kittens.”

When he quirked his brow, Abbie felt her face warm. _Way to just toss yourself under the bus there, Mills,_ she scolded herself.

“I suppose today must be my lucky day, then,” Ichabod replied in a tone that sent a shiver down Abbie's back and to her pelvis. He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked away shyly. “Because you will obviously do your best if… not that I think I'm…” he closed his eyes and sighed. “Everything I was going to say sounded much better in my head. I'm going to shut up now. Before I embarrass myself further.”

Welp. At least she knew why he was single. 

Though, his lack of game had an appeal all its own. Was it possible for someone to have so little game that it inadvertently gave them tons of game? Because Abbie could certainly see his awkwardness getting panties to drop. Hers would already be around her ankles if she had worn any.

“I don't know about you embarrassing yourself,” Abbie flirted. “But it _might be_ your lucky day. We'll just have to see. Won't we?”

~*~

_Lucky day indeed!_

Ichabod blinked at Miss Mills. “You want me to what, now?”

“Take your shirts off,” she repeated, then captured her bottom lip between her teeth to hide a grin. Her eyes were twinkling mischievously. “Unless you don't want to…”

Ichabod yanked his sweater over his head and deposited it on the coffee table. He then began unbuttoning the shirt he had been wearing beneath it. If a beautiful woman wanted him to strip down, who was he to argue.

“You can leave you pants on,” she said quickly, when his fingers went to the button of his jeans. But then she grinned. “Unless you _want_ to take them off.”

“Actually…” Miss Mills said softly, walking over to him. She set her camera down for a moment then looked up at him as she delicately unbuttoned his jeans then nudged them down his hips just a little. “I want you to kind of cradle Jane in your hands and hold her close to your chest.”

Ichabod watched as her hands guided him into the desired position. She pursed her lips as Jane settled into his palm and curled up. Miss Mills carefully moved Jane around until she was in a pleasing position. “They're so much easier to deal with than human babies,” Miss Mills chuckled, moving one of his hands to delicately cover Jane. “There we are.”

Miss Mills took several steps back and tilted her head. “Can you look down at Jane, please?” 

Ichabod tilted his head down to gaze affectionately at Jane. He couldn't help but smile. She looked so tiny and fragile cradled between his hands. Miss Mills’ camera clicked several times. “Good. Perfect. Let's get a couple of different poses of daddy and baby and then we can work on the swaddled baby pics.”

He wasn't sure why but he rather enjoyed the fact she kept referring to him as Daddy. After a moment, Miss Mills set her camera down and removed the button up she was wearing over a crop top that hugged her chest in all the right places.

Ichabod licked his lips as he watched her pick up her camera once more. Now that she was free of the over shirt, he could feast his eyes upon every delicate curve of her petite frame. “What would you like next, Miss Mills?” 

She swept her eyes over him and smirked. “I was thinking maybe I could get you into the bed.”

Well that was much easier than he had thought it would be. At this point he didn't give one damn over whether she was single or not. He would gladly show her that whomever she was seeing was pale in comparison… He started to lay Jane upon the sofa but he caught Miss Mills’ bemused expression and remembered she had wanted to get a few photos of him cuddling Jane in bed.

“Right this way, Miss Mills,” Ichabod replied, moving towards his bedroom door.

Ichabod sat on the bed and looked at Miss Mills. “How do you want me, Miss Mills?” he asked, then watched her shiver.

“Call me Abbie, please,” she said, her voice wavering. “I want you to just sort of lay down with her like you normally would.”

Ichabod lounged on his side and nestled Jane in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. She had declared it her favorite spot. Wide awake once again, she set to attacking his jaw. He heard the unmistakable shutter sound of the camera. To be fair, it sort of made him feel like a male model. 

“God, she's so full of energy,” Abbie chuckled. She knelt down next to the bed to snap a few more. Her breath hitched when he pinned her with a gaze. “Do you mind if I get on the bed?”

“Not in the slightest, _Abbie_,” he responded.

He had expected maybe for her to climb onto the bed and hover nearby. However, much to his surprise and delight, she stood over him with a foot at either of his sides. He licked his lips when she leaned over to get closer and his vision was filled with full breasts trying to escape her tiny crop top.

After a moment she eased down to her knees. Ichabod's brows arched and a smile spread across his lips as he took a moment to enjoy the view. “How very intimate,” he murmured.

Abbie lowered her camera. “I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

Ichabod drew one knee up and shifted his hips. “On the contrary, Abbie, I was concerned that you may be the one who feels uncomfortable.” After all, she was a tiny thing, he wasn't exactly comparative in size. “I'm quite a sizable fellow.”

The moment Abbie grinned, his heart stammered. “I'm used to big fellas, so don't worry,” she murmured. Whether the shift of her hips was intentional or not, it sent Ichabod's blood rushing to his groin. She brought her camera back up, resting her weight down on him. "Are you okay? Are you still comfortable with this?"

"Oh yes, I'm never one to complain when a beautiful woman wants to straddle me," Ichabod muttered. Abbie peeped at him over her camera, a wicked gleam in her eyes. He felt his face warm. 

Jane chose that precise moment to jump completely on his face and rear her head back dramatically. Abbie laughed, snapping pictures. After that, Abbie became all business until she lowered her camera.

Jane scampered across the bed, chasing shadows and fighting her tail. Abbie started down at him, fluttering her lashes. "You weren't kidding about being a sizable fellow…" she murmured, grinding down on him. She gasped softly as his fingers trailed up the side of her thighs.

Ichabod squeezed her ass through the thick jean shorts she wore then swiftly flipped their positions. Abbie made a small sound, her lips parted as she stared up at him with heavy lidded eyes. "May I?" Ichabod asked, indicating her camera.

Abbie nodded mutely. She lifted her head, letting him remove the camera from around her neck. Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her full lips. One corner of her mouth quirked as she gazed up at him. Ichabod delicately scratched the duvet beneath her. It had the desired effect that Jane catapulted herself across the bed and dove headlong into Abbie's hair.

The beautiful woman squealed and laughed. Ichabod snapped photos as she played with Jane. He did his best to ignore how hard he had become by the intimacy of their positions. "Beautiful," he barked, like he was the professional. "Give me sexy…" Oh heavens did she give him sexy when she peered at him lustfully. "Now give me innocent…"

She drew her bottom lip between her lips and her eyes widened. 

Ichabod snapped a couple more before lowering the camera. "Hopefully at least one of those turned out good enough that you can use it… Because you should have at least one photograph of yourself on your website."

Abbie blinked up at him, then smiled bashfully. "Maybe…"

Ichabod set the camera down on the bed, searching her face for some indication that she was out for more than just a flirtatious encounter. What if she was like this with all the single men she photographed? Being flirtatious could have its advantages during a photoshoot. He guessed.

His brows arched when his stomach growled. Abbie grinned. "I suppose that is an indication that I should leave the photographs in your capable hands and make lunch."

Abbie nodded. "I guess so…"

It was with great regret that he pulled himself from between her warm thighs and hastened to pull his clothes back on.

~*~

Abbie jutted her ass into the air as she bent over Jane - currently in a large kitchen bowl with a bit of faux fur fabric draped in it - to snap a few pictures. She could practically feel Ichabod's eyes sweeping up and down her legs and along the curve of her bum. 

When she straightened and looked over her shoulder, she wasn't disappointed. His eyes left her backside and met her own. At least she knew there was a big chance he was interested. 

An arcane smile spread over his lips before he returned his attention to whatever he was cooking. Damn, it smelled delicious. She loved food. She loved when people could cook. All too often she was the one having to cook for folks.

“Well, that's all three hours,” she announced, walking over to the kitchen counter. 

“Oh,” Ichabod said with a slight frown. “I'm nearly done with preparing lunch. I made more than enough for the two of us.”

Abbie grinned. “Well, I could eat,” she said, tilting her head. 

He picked up a spoon and scooped some of the sauce from the pan and offered it her way. “Let's make certain it's to your liking first…”

Abbie opened her mouth as his fingers lightly tilted her chin up and he dipped the spoon between her lips. She closed her lips and he pulled the spoon from her mouth. “Oh… mmm. It's tastes just as good as it smells. What is it?”

“Family recipe,” he replied. “A garlic and rosemary, white wine sauce. Paired with lemon and pepper roasted chicken and fusilli noodles.”

Abbie's mouth was watering. “How much longer do we have to wait?”

“Ten more minutes on the chicken,” he said. “Then it's _bon appetit_.”

“In the meantime, I can… be… getting my stuff together,” she replied.

“I would hate to keep you if there is someone waiting for your return,” Ichabod stated. He quickly looked between her and his dish.

Abbie shook her head. “There's not one,” she said. Is that what was holding him back? He thought she was taken? “Not unless you count my sister. My next appointment isn't until four. I can spend those hours however I like. Whether it's eating or… getting eaten.”

She liked the smoldering look in his eyes as she slipped off the bar seat and wandered over to the table to start packing her camera away. At least she knew it wasn't too forward. She had been reading his signals loud and clear. Now it was time to see if he would take her up on the offer.

Abbie hadn't even put the lense cover on her camera before she felt his warm breath on her neck. “I could certainly see to the _being_ eaten option,” he murmured, nuzzling her ear.

His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against him. Abbie let out a sound of surprise then grinned. “Can you, now?” she asked. “Asking for a friend. Because I have been throwing you signals since we got started. I was starting to think you didn't like me.”

“I didn't wish to distract you from your art,” Ichabod replied. She felt his finger trace the edge of the button on her shorts. “You need only say so and I am yours Abigail Mills.”

“So,” Abbie cackled. Excited didn't even begin to describe her feelings when her shorts were suddenly around her knees.

“You _minx_,” Ichabod murmured appreciatively as he dropped to his knees before her. “Not wearing any knickers.”

Abbie giggled as Ichabod rubbed his face against her core. He was certainly in for a surprise when he found out she hadn't worn a bra either. She had come fully prepared for this eventuality.

His tongue lapped between her folds and he moaned indulgently. She yelped when he gripped her ass with both hands and burrowed deeper to latch on to her clit and tug at it with his lips. “Ohhh _shit_,” Abbie gasped.

Ichabod’s fingers flexed against her flesh. Abbie was trying to wrap her head around the fact his hands were so damn big they spanned an ass cheek a piece with ridiculous ease. 

Abbie pushed onto her toes, her back bowing as she tried to hold back her moans. However, as soon as one slipped from her mouth, Ichabod pulled back and nipped her thigh. “Do you like that, love?” he purred.

“Mmhmm,” Abbie whimpered, nodding enthusiastically. She could feel his tongue whirling against the flesh of her thighs, followed by wicked little nips of his teeth.

He dragged her shorts down to her ankles and spun her around. “Then you're going to _love_ what comes next.”

“What comes next?” Abbie asked breathlessly as he urged her to sit on the table.

“You do, of course,” Ichabod said with a devilish grin. He tossed her shorts over his shoulder along with her sandals. 

Before she could playfully accuse of him of being all talk, he had dove back in, rendering her speechless and almost incapable of breathing. His hands slid up her stomach and into her shirt. He made an appreciative sound as he gently grasped her breasts, his fingertips ghosted lightly around each peak in tandem with the swipes of his tongue inside of her.

Abbie spread her thighs more, arching against his mouth. He growled deeply, rubbing his face against her. Once again he captured her clit, his eyes meeting hers as he sucked hard, until her thighs quivered and shook. Abbie came with a loud howl, her fingernails scraping at his scalp as she rode his face.

When she went limp, he lifted his head and licked his lips. “Delicious,” he preened. Abbie could only lay against the table, panting and twitching. She couldn't feel her legs and had a sneaking suspicion if she even tried to stand up she'd collapse to the floor.

After a moment, Ichabod leaned over her and took her face in his hands as he kissed her slowly. Abbie rested her hands on his waist, arching against him as he grinded between her legs.

“Ich’bod…” she slowly slurred, thrusting her hips against him. “Please…” She found the button of his jeans then tugged weakly at the zipper. “Oh god, please…”

Ichabod sucked in a deep breath. “How could I deny you,” he murmured against her jaw. His hands drifted down her body. She heard the zipper drag downward, felt him shimmy his jeans down his hips. “Is this what you were wanting, my love?”

“Yes!” Abbie whimpered, feeling him rub the tip of his cock along her slit. She gasped and grabbed his shoulders as she felt him push inside. “Jesus!”

_Fuck_, he felt thick. When Abbie looked down, she confirmed that yes, he was thick. From what she could tell, he had at least six or seven more inches to sink into her after the head was in. Her head fell back and she groaned as he slid in, inch by glorious inch.

Her eyes squeezed shut and she panted raggedly. “It’s too big,” she squealed. 

“Do you wish for me to stop?” he asked, brushing her hair away from her face.

Abbie shook her head. “Nah uh…” she sighed. “I want you to give me all of it.” She keened when he pressed her knees further apart and thrust against her. “Yes! All of it, baby.”

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her toes curled as he slammed into her over and over again, growling and groaning with each wet smack of his body into hers.

“When I get done with you here,” Ichabod growled. “I'm going to have you in my bed. Then I want you to ride my cock so I can see how deep inside of you I am.”

“Me too,” Abbie moaned. “_Fuck_. You feel so good, Baby.” She clamped her legs around his waist as he hit the right spot again and again. Then she was coming and coming hard.

Ichabod made a sputtering sound and pressed deep as his cock pulsed inside of her. Once they were both spent, he lay with his head on her breasts. It took a moment to catch their breaths and pull away from each other. 

Abbies stomach growled and she laughed heartily. The smell of food cooking once again was able to cut through the lustful haze in her brain. “Can round two wait until after we eat?”

Ichabod’s eyes glimmered mischievously as he fastened his jeans. “Certainly. Would be a shame for it to go to waste.”


	3. Third

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We accidentally uploaded the wrong chapter. This is the correct one!

The chicken ended up being a little over cooked. But in Ichabod's defense, he had been very distracted by the half naked woman on his penis at the time. His heart stammered in his chest everytime she closed her beautiful plump lips around her fork.

Abbie hadn't seemed to mind. Blimey. She was breathtaking. Just looking at her he couldn't help but wonder: how the hell had he managed to impress her?

Especially when she seemed to have made his “A” game go out the window. Then again, he did always seem to have a gift for getting women who were entirely too beautiful for his awkward, lanky ass. He had received more than plenty perplexed looks when he and Katrina had been together.

Then again, he had a cute kitten that helped work things to his advantage. 

“So how long are you in America?” Abbie asked curiously, watching Jane chase a jingly ball across the flat. 

Ichabod arched a brow. “Pardon?”

Abbie tilted her head as she looked at him. “You don't sound like you're from around here. I was just curious about how long you were in the US.”

“I am a permanent resident,” Ichabod replied. “Just received my citizenship in the middle of last year.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Although now I ponder the wisdom of doing so.” He shook his head to clear it. “I have no plans of returning to England permanently.”

He looked down as the Jingle Ball bounced off his foot. Jane reared up on her hind legs then pounced on Ichabod's shoe, focusing on his laces. He picked her up and deposited her on the counter. Jane's response was to haunch down and attack his hand, so he rolled her over and tickled her belly.

After a moment, her little eyes narrowed and she slowly relaxed. “It seems it is naptime once again,” Ichabod stated. “I'm going to put her in her bed in my room. Would you care to join me?”

Abbie’s face softened as she smiled. “I'd like that,” she replied, her voice sweet as honey.

_Oh no_, was his immediate next thought. Was he legitimately attracted to this woman or was he doing his normal, clinging to the first person that showed him affection? 

He got his answer when, after placing Jane in the little box designated for her naps, he turned and found Abbie was already naked and lounged seductively on the bed. There was a part of him that was very much attracted to her. And that part of him was about to be sinking into her again.

She worried her bottom lip. “You don't have curtains,” she blurted, then laughed nervously.

“Reinforced, impact resistant, privacy panes. Unless the lights are on, no one can see in,” Ichabod said, pulling his shirts over his head as he toed his shoes off. “It's one of the reasons I chose this place.”

He wasn't going to say the main reason was an ex fiancee that wanted the best and most expensive place in town. Or, well, she didn't say it. But she was disappointed in anything less.

“So, let me get this straight,” Abbie said slowly. She waved her hand toward the windows. “I could have my titties pressed against the windows and we be getting freaky and…”

“No one would see a thing,” Ichabod chuckled, removing the rest of his clothes. He searched her face for some kind of indication that maybe this thing between them could be more than just a brief encounter. He liked her wit. He loved her smile. He loved the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Dammit. He was in Trouble. With a capital T. He felt like he should be taking a long hard look at himself and asking 'Why are you like this?’

Especially when it caused him so many heartbreaks.

Instead he chose the option of diving long and hard between Abbie's thighs. He wanted to focus on something much better than heartache. He wanted to focus on making the beautiful woman in his bed come.

So he did.

Repeatedly.

~*~

Abbie scurried into the house and hurried to the dining room, which they used for a photo studio for just simple, run of the mill, family photos. She sighed with relief when she saw Jenny trying to get a chubby baby in a pink dress to smile, resulting in a happy squeal and flailing arms.

“Aaaand, there we go!” Jenny preened, capturing the moment.

The Stevens family had evidently shown early and Jenny was taking care of it. 

Thank God.

Abbie wasn't sure if she'd be able to do the stooping and bending required for the shoot. She tiptoed past to go to the kitchen and eat every fucking thing in sight.

She wasn't sure why, but she was starving. Even after the very decent lunch made by Ichabod. She reasoned that she must have worked up an appetite again. Which that would be perfectly valid considering Ichabod had seemed to be partial to keeping her in various states of orgasm after lunch.

It felt like her vagina was permanently moulded to his dick. Like his was the only one that would ever fit perfectly ever again. Which she couldn't say she would mind too much. She sipped on a glass of orange juice as she remembered him bashfully rubbing the back of his neck as he paid her for the photoshoot, his face flushed pink.

_“Just… just so you don't think otherwise. This is for the photo session with Jane not for… um… the other things,” he bumbled._

_“I would actually be insulted if you thought it was,” Abbie chuckled. “$225 is way too cheap for _that_ to be the case.”_

_His face turned even more red and he flustered for a moment before joining her laughter. God he was adorable. It was emphasized by Jane crawling all over his shoulders and attacking his hair and ear._

_Suddenly he looked straight into her soul. “Do you like to eat?” he asked softly. He sighed heavily as he tried to keep Jane from attacking his face. “What I mean is… would you be interested in having dinner with me sometime?”_

_Abbie had been taken aback then watching his fingers nervously flutter at his sides. Was this his first attempt at a date after his broken engagement? Dammit. She shouldn't have looked through his Instagram. She never would have known and she could say “Sure.”_

_The word slipped out before she could stop herself. Next she knew she was handing him a business card with her personal cell number handwritten on the back. “Feel free to call or text whenever you want to do it.” His brow arched and he smirked. Her face warmed. “Dinner. Obviously. Not… well, we could do that too but… I meant for dinner.”_

He had then pulled her into his arms and kissed his way from her knuckles to her mouth like he was as suave as Gomez Addams and she was his beloved Morticia. 

Abbie wasn't gonna lie. It had made her weak in the knees. Now she just had to figure out how to tell him she wasn't really emotionally available at the moment. Why had she had to open her big mouth and say _sure_?

She knew why. 

It was about 9 inches long and her hand couldn't fit around it. Abbie wasn't ashamed to admit it. She'd give him a date if she got to have that kind of dick one more time.

“Hey, where the hell have you been?” Jenny greeted as she walked into the kitchen. Her eyes swept over Abbie and she folded her arms over her chest with a bemused smirk. “The Stevens’ showed up early because the baby was awake.”

Abbie glanced toward the door. “They still here?”

Jenny craned her neck to peer out the dining room window. “Pulling out now.”

“I did my 9-12. Ate lunch. Got ate. Got fucked. Got fucked a couple more times. Not necessarily in that order,” Abbie grinned. 

Jenny barked out with laughter. “I _knew it_!” she howled. “You'd get there with a cute guy with a kitten and your resolve would weaken.” She mimicked Abbie from a few days before. “I’m going to be so professional. And do professional things like suck dick.”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t suck his dick. While I will admit Jane was adorable.” Abbie pulled out her phone and showed Jenny a picture she had taken with her phone. “I mean look at this face. Her daddy was adorable all on his own without her help.” Abbie snorted when Jenny rolled her eyes. “What?”

“_Please_ tell me you didn't call him Daddy during sex,” Jenny groaned.

Abbie thought a moment. She thought about one of the moments she had been throwing her ass back and he gave it a nice smack with that big, hard hand. “That's none of your damn business you nosy hoe.”

Jenny cackled with delight. “I'm not even gonna ask if you're going to see him again.” She sighed and shook her head. “You'll just disappoint me.”

“I might have given him my personal number, thank you,” Abbie huffed and Jenny actually managed to look impressed. “Besides, when I have the retouches done, he wants to sit down with me and see what kind of packages he can get.” Abbie removed her camera from her bag then took out the memory card. “Which, I'm going to get on that right now, along with the Stevens shoot.”

“At least I'm not the only one doing any work around here,” Jenny teased. “And don't play. We both know what kinda package he's gonna be getting.”

Abbie frowned a moment. “What's that even supposed to mean?”

“I predict he'll get whatever is most expensive, because it'll get him laid,” Jenny cackled.

Abbie rolled her eyes. “No, he’s not like that,” she said softly. “I think he likes doting on Jane more than anything.”

“But not more than tapping that, I’m sure,” Jenny said sweetly, swatting Abbie on the ass.

“God, why did I hire you?” Abbie grumbled as she walked away from her sister.

“Because you needed me,” Jenny wheedled.

“How could I forget,” Abbie threw over her shoulder as she left the room. “You keep fucking reminding me!”

Jenny shrugged to herself. “And I will keep reminding you every day. Until we’re both cranky little old ladies in the nursing home,” she muttered, and cackled to herself. This was a good sign, she thought. Abbie didn’t even shudder at the notion this kitten daddy might come back around for another go. 

A small, tiny step in the direction that indicated Abbie might actually be willing to move on from the disaster that was her last serious relationship.

She just hopes her sister doesn’t get in her own way. She also hoped this guy knew if he broke Abbie’s heart, she’d kill him.

~*~

Ichabod sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Look, I understand that you get callers that are not exactly the sharpest crayon in the Christmas shed,” he said patiently. “But you _should not_ at any time tell them they are having an ID ten Tee user error.”

He almost lost it when the representative on the other end snickered. “Uh huh,” is all they replied.

“Maybe next time ask the caller if there is someone else nearby who is more tech savvy. If they do not, you will need to imagine they are the sweetest, most adorable grandma ever and give them step by step instructions,” Ichabod stated. He drummed his fingers on his desk and out of nowhere, Jane dove atop them. He bit his bottom lip as her tiny claws sank into his flesh. “Even if you find yourself using hugely technically phrases like 'plug the big blue thingie into the other blue thingie. Got it?”

“I don't get it though,” the rep said. “They're always on about the metrics but then they want us to break things down step by step like we're talking to children.”

“Oh I know, but you have to also understand,” Ichabod stated. “By asking for someone else, they may say only their seven year old is available. Ask them to put the seven year old on the phone. Children are nine times out of ten more willing to listen to instruction or know how to tell their parents or grandparents to do things with tech. And odds are _they_ will make the joke _for you_ and then you won't be the one receiving a complaint.”

“Fair point,” the rep said flatly.

A few minutes later the meeting was done and Ichabod removed his headset. He patted his chest and Jane stretched across the desk to step on him, flexing her claws daintily before bringing her back end onto him. She nosed his chin then rubbed it with her face. Ichabod grinned and nuzzled her in return. 

His eyes fell to the business card taped to the side of one of his monitors. He had already memorized the number scripted on the back. When he peered at the clock, he saw that it was nearly seven-thirty in the morning. Abbie’s office hours would be starting soon. Perhaps she would just now be waking up.

Ichabod sucked in a deep breath and picked up his cell phone. “What do you think Jane? Should I send her a text to wish her a good morning?” he asked softly. She gave a soft _vvvrp_ sound. “I’ll assume that is a yes.”

For a moment he fussed over what precisely to say in his text, then settled upon keeping it simple.

_Good Morning :) _

It was only an hour later that Ichabod started over thinking the fact she hadn’t yet responded. It took him another two hours to reason that perhaps she was busy with her work. He was being needy again and reminded himself that his neediness was not an attractive trait. When the lunchtime window had passed he sucked in a breath and sent her an apology for bothering her.

_I profusely apologize for bothering you Miss Mills. I understand that I sometimes come on entirely too strong. I shall not bother you any further on your personal number. I promise. Sincerely, Ichabod Crane_.

Jane slowly blinked at him as he hit send. Even Jane in her limited feline experience was judging him. “Perhaps we should get some sleep before work tonight,” he murmured, picking Jane up. “It was worth a try, at least. It apparently did not work out.” He stripped down and crawled into bed, he was about to lay down when his phone chimed.

Ichabod grabbed the phone up and rubbed Jane between her ears as he looked over the response.

_Sorry! Didn’t mean to ignore you. Your greeting came when I first woke up and I kind of forgot to respond. Busy day :) You didn’t come on too strong. Since I’m in the midst of responding to you, I should have your samples ready by Saturday. Would you like to come to the studio to have a look? You can come by at any time. Just an FYI, it’s my house so don’t be afraid you got the wrong place. <3 Abbie_

Come by on Saturday? He was fairly certain the website said the samples would be emailed. Yet she was inviting him to view them in person, at her studio which just so happened to be her home. “I’m thinking, perhaps, things may be working in our favor once again, Jane,” he murmured, as he tapped out his response.

_Naaao_, Jane responded softly.

He gave her a kiss on the tip of her nose and gently scratched down her spine. Jane began to knead his stomach and purr loudly. “You’re right, once again, Jane,” he said. “I need to be more confident.”

_Vrrrrpppp_.

“I _am_ a handsome and charming fellow, when I’m not a nervous wreck,” he added. Jane trotted eagerly up his chest as he laid back then headbutted his nose. “Okay, okay, and lovable. I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” He sighed as Jane settled into the curve of his shoulder and rubbed behind her ears. “Then again I am pretending you’re actually trying to convince me I’m actually handsome and charming. So perhaps I am being presumptuous.”

Ichabod hit send on his message: _Look forward to seeing you :)_


	4. Fourth

Ichabod made the turn to head back down West Helholm St. It was his third time making the pass and it was nearly half an hour past her Saturday business hours. With a heavy sigh, he pulled into the driveway of a quaint colonial home with “1156” in large metal numbers under the little mailbox next to the door and shut off his engine.

Was it too late to pay a visit? Should he just call her on Monday and ask for the samples to be emailed? Would she even remember she told him to stop by today? 

He pulled the text message up and sighed. _You can come by at any time_. Did that mean just during her business hours or was it literally _any time_? Perhaps he should call her and see what she meant. She need not know he had driven past her home three times already and was currently in her driveway, trying to get the nerve to knock on her door.

His mind drifted to Jane for a moment. She was at home right now, his housekeeper had promised to stay as long as she could to watch her while he was gone. She had the incentive that he promised to pay her extra. He pulled up an app on his phone and chuckled at the sweet little German lady speaking affectionately to Jane as she scampered over her lap. After watching briefly, he closed the app and sighed.

Jane was fine. He was just chickening out. 

_You can do this_, he told himself. He could go in there, look at photo samples, and ask the woman on a date. Thousands of people successfully did it every day. Not to Abbie, but in general. Though he wouldn't be surprised if she didn't receive at least 3 or 4 inquiries a day. She was beautiful. 

And charming.

Though they really hadn't delved into deep conversation, he felt she was also intelligent and held herself confidently. 

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel nervously. See. This was exactly why he didn't like leaving the house to meet actual living and breathing people. Jaunting down to the store for groceries was bad enough. Legitimate social interaction was like dropping him into a horror film.

After a moment he saw Abbie peer out of a window. When their eyes met, she grinned brightly then disappeared from the window and the door opened. Abbie didn't step out to wave him in, but he recognized an opening when he saw one. 

Ichabod's heart stammered. Perhaps this would go fine after all. He took a deep breath and got out of the car. After smoothing down his coat, he took another breath and strode to the door. Ichabod knocked lightly and waited just outside.

Abbie peered around a doorway and beamed, “Come on in.” Her eyes twinkled merrily. “Did you leave Jane with a babysitter?”

Ichabod's fingers fidgeted at his sides as he stepped in. He ducked his head bashfully. “Actually, yes, I did.”

Abbie's face softened. “Aww,” she cooed. “That's so sweet!” She waved for him to follow. “In here. Close the door behind you.”

He quietly closed the door and walked into a spacious living room. To his surprise, she had two wine glasses and a bottle of wine next to a laptop on a coffee table in front of a plush leather sofa.

“I was just about to have my afternoon glass of wine when my sister called and said one of the neighbors called her to say a strange white dude had been parked in my driveway for about fifteen minutes,” Abbie stated. “Would you like a glass too?”

“I would love one,” he said, gratefully accepting the nicely filled glass. “I didn’t mean to alarm your neighbor or your sister,” Ichabod said, feeling more and more awkward by the second as he gripped the glass as if it could deliver him from his embarrassment. 

“It’s fine,” Abbie reassured him. “You seem nervous.”

“You can tell?” Ichabod joked before he downed a fair bit of wine. It was slightly sweet and very aromatic, definitely a pleasant vintage. He’d have to inquire about it later. 

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. Abbie hesitated before taking his hand and leading him to the couch. His eyes drifted down her body and he licked his lips as he observed her perfect posterior encased, as it were, in the tiniest skirt that could still be considered decent. “Why don’t we look over the pictures and start there? No expectations.”

Ichabod took a deep breath as he settled on Abbie’s very comfortable couch. He couldn't tell if she was extending the invitation because it was business or if she was open to something more.

_No expectations_, he heard her voice in his head say again. Ichabod tried to rein in his brain before it went off on a distant tangent that he had no true desire to go down. He was with Abbie at her house. Those were facts. He was drinking wine with Abbie and looking at the results of the photoshoot. Everything else was just theoretical at the moment.

He kept a modest one-foot distance from Abbie at first. But then she grinned as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “You can come closer. I promise I won't bite unless you want me to,” she teased, patting the cushioning right next to her.

Ichabod slid all the way over to her side, marveling at how perfectly they fit together. He sipped the wine and slipped his arm around her waist, his hand resting in the luscious curve, as he leaned down to study her artistry. She shifted a little closer and set her wine glass down so as to rest the hand on his thigh as she clicked through the pictures for him.

Soon enough Ichabod felt at ease. After all, he wasn't actually in a public place. He was in a private home with a delightful and charming woman. When Abbie brushed her hair off of the shoulder nearest to him and pulled it all around to her other, Ichabod had to fight the urge to nuzzle the sweet spot he knew rested just below her ear.

“I can pretty much get you any size and quantity you want,” Abbie said. “But I also have packages you can order and sort of mix up which pics are in it or do it all as one specific one.”

She tilted her head away, exposing her neck. He couldn't resist anymore. Ichabod nuzzled the sweet spot. Abbie's hand squeezed his thigh gently as she hummed delicately. He nipped and sucked his way down her neck, reveling in the soft sounds she made along the way.

“_Shit_,” she whimpered. “Business first, Abbie. Fun after.”

Ichabod pulled back and chuckled. “Shall I make it easy for you? I will take them all. And I would like a 24x36 mounted copy of…” he pointed to the one of Jane swaddled in a rose-colored scarf with a rosy headband “...that one with a matte finish.”

“That's… that's going to be pretty expensive,” Abbie pointed out softly.

“I don't mind,” he murmured. 

At that, Abbie closed the laptop and turned to take his face in her hands. “Okay,” she said quickly and pressed her lips to his. “I didn't think you were going to make it.”

“There was an accident on Broadway that held me up,” he stated.

“And you circled around my block like three times,” Abbie grinned.

“You saw that,” Ichabod squeaked.

“No, the neighbor did, remember,” Abbie chuckled. “There's a bunch of nosy people in this neighborhood. Well, one nosy neighbor. Mrs. Collins is constantly worried about me being a lady living alone so she keeps an eye out.” She stroked his beard and licked her lips. “Now for the fun stuff…”

Ichabod needed no further incentive to press his lips to hers and kiss her soundly. Abbie's arms slid up his chest and around his neck as she let him lay her back on the sofa. Within the span of three moments, she was arching against his roaming hands and moaning into his mouth.

He found her gentle pleasure addictive. He wanted to hear more of it. He wanted to _give her_ more of it. Ichabod's hands continued their exploratory journey down her body, gliding down her thighs and back up again, urging the little skirt upward.

“Oh!” Abbie squeaked then grinned. “Well someone certainly got over his shyness pretty damn quick.”

“Only a fool would remain unaffected when faced by your perfection,” Ichabod murmured. “Especially when they are knowledgeable of how sweet you taste.”

She shivered beneath him. “I suggest stop talking and get to that tasting,” she replied, her voice gone low and sensual.

“Certainly, madam,” Ichabod drawled, making Abbie gasp as he yanked her silky panties down. “I shall get to that straight away.”

He flung her panties over his shoulder. Abbie's eyes widened and she squirmed as he parted her thighs, his hands nearly engulfing the warm, brown skin as he lowered his head between her legs. She gasped softly as he swirled his tongue around her clit, making every ounce of resistance he may have been feeling melt away.

Ichabod was soon consuming her with all the gusto of a starving man and she was bucking and thrashing as she yanked on his hair. When he met her eyes he held her gaze. He brought her to completion as he sucked deeply on her clit.

When he finally pulled back, she sagged against the sofa, panting. After a moment she delicately patted her cheeks. “Woo…” she said with a soft sigh. “That was even better than I remember.”

Ichabod licked her essence from his lips. “Just as delicious as I recall,” he murmured and Abbie noticeably shivered. She watched him hungrily as he sat back on his heels and unfastened his belt and trousers. Good Lord, he was torn between sinking himself inside of her and having her straddle his face. 

It was the expression on her face that made him scramble to shimmy his trousers and underwear down enough to permit his cock freedom. Abbie's eyes lit up and she grinned wickedly. “Oh I remember this,” she purred, grabbing hold with both of her hands. 

Abbie tilted her hips and spread her thighs apart even more as she guided him toward her. Ichabod slid his hand up down her thighs and cupped the back of her knee in his palm as the tip of his cock nestled against her opening. With one sure stroke, he glided home. Abbie's body arched and she moaned softly as she grasped the arm of the sofa over her head.

She was blissfully hot wrapped around him. Ichabod set a toe-curling pace, nice and slow until he was sliding in and out of her with ease. “_God_,” Abbie groaned, moving her hands to clutch his shirt in both her fists. “Don't be shy, baby. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Ichabod grinned and pulled her legs open wider. “As my lady wishes,” he said.

That was the only warning Abbie had before he began to move his hips like a piston, practically rutting into her. Ichabod hit her spot every time he slid home and it didn’t take long for Abbie’s legs to start jumping. Hell, she hadn’t even touched her clit yet and she could already feel herself spiraling up toward another orgasm. 

“_Oh god_,” she panted, thrashing her head back and forth. It felt so good her body wanted to move away from the pleasure, give her a break somehow but Ichabod was a machine as he palmed her breasts and thumbed her nipples. The sensation was all she needed to begin coming hard, with each thrust her body sang as she couldn’t control her muscles.

Ichabod felt an almost dark glee at watching Abbie come apart on his cock. He felt manly and powerful - he was able to make her feel so good, and as hard as it was he slowed down just a little, drawing out the pleasure as he tried to brace himself against the feeling of her slick walls fluttering around him. He wanted to come - was desperate to come, but he needed to positively _wreck her_.

“Oh god, stop,” Abbie pleaded, unable to get away in the position she’d slid into, half off the couch. Her right thigh was still jumping and she was pretty sure she was drooling, but damn it if she didn’t care. “How do you do that?” she groaned, trying to catch her breath as he wrangled her completely back onto the sofa. She laughed when she flopped down against the cushions. 

Ichabod just smiled. “Divine inspiration,” he said, his eyes roving over her form with a wicked gleam.

“You’re still hard,” Abbie said. “You didn’t come.”

“I wanted to watch you,” he said simply.

“Well we can’t have you go without,” she said. “You’ve watched me, so now what do you want?”

Ichabod blinked and hissed as Abbie reached forward to slide her thumb across the slit of his cock, making his hips move involuntarily. “What do I want?” he repeated.

Abbie hummed as she moved to stroke him gently. “God, you feel like steel. That’s gotta hurt.”

“It’s getting worse as it goes,” he admitted, closing his eyes against the sight of her small hand moving along his manhood. God, the sight was so erotic he could have come just from her smearing the precome up and down. He swore under his breath and tried to concentrate. “I want to take you from behind,” he said, moving her hand away before he exploded. 

Abbie grinned as he manhandled her into position, kneeling on the couch with her ass pointed right at him. She liked a man that knew what he wanted. She braced herself but did not expect for Ichabod to practically faceplant into her ass, lapping at her core from behind. 

“Fuck,” she cried out, slapping the back of the couch as she pushed back against his tongue. That was hot as hell, Abbie couldn’t deny, and when Ichabod’s hand came up to caress her clit she knew he wasn’t playing around. Abbie tugged on her own nipples, crying out as her body tightened even more. “I thought you were going to fuck me,” she groaned.

Ichabod lifted his face just enough to laugh. “I thought you said whatever I wanted,” he said, maintaining the gentle circles he was rubbing on her clit. 

“Keep this up and I’m going to flood this couch,” Abbie warns, gasping when Ichabod speeds up the pace just a little.

“Well, you’ve already drenched me to the wrist, _again_,” he said in wonder. “You certainly know how to spoil a man…”

Abbie looked back to see him lift his hand to his mouth and suck her essence from his fingers, eyes closed in bliss. The sight left her core throbbing and her whimpering as she tried to clench down on nothing.

What was this man doing to her?

“Now you’re ready,” he said, and when Ichabod opened his eyes they were so lust blown she could barely tell they were blue. When he rose to his feet Abbie swallowed, her eyes were immediately drawn to his tumescence as it bobbed heavily between his legs. He yanked his shirt off over his head and threw it aside.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Put it in me,” she demanded.

Ichabod palmed Abbie’s ass with both hands appreciatively, pushing her against the couch as he crowded close. “Such demands,” he chuckled. “Such a dirty mouth.”

“Fucking fuck me with your monster cock,” Abbie threw back at him hotly. “Quit playing aro- _Oh fuck_!” she screamed as he slid home with one stroke.

“Such a mouth,” Ichabod rasped in her ear, cradling her face in his hand, making her cry out and shiver. “That’s grounds for a spanking.”

Abbie wanted to retort but Ichabod slipped her skirt up to her waist and slapped her ass with just enough sting to put a curve in her spine. She bounced back against him, taking him in even farther. “_Oh god_,” she wailed as he began to thrust.

“No, there is no God here, only me,” Ichabod moaned, grasping Abbie’s ass in both hands again as he slid in and out in an almost frictionless glide. She was so wet and warm and Ichabod couldn’t help but squeeze the pliant flesh in his hands before giving her ass another slap, mesmerized as it rebounded perfectly with a satisfying bounce. “You’ll be the death of me, woman,” he groaned, feeling his balls tighten at the sight.

Abbie leaned back, reaching for Ichabod’s neck as she began to throw it back on each stroke. Abbie was already about to come _again_. “_Oh fuck_,” she moaned as Ichabod’s big hands slid up her stomach and into her shirt to cup her breasts, just barely brushing her nipples as they bounced in his grasp. “Come for me, baby,” she pleads, feeling him thicken inside of her.

Ichabod grabbed her hips, yanking Abbie back against him as he finally succumbed to his orgasm, half falling onto her and the couch as he climbed on to widen her legs as he continued to thrust, emptying himself inside of her with a satisfying, low moan. Neither moved for some seconds, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing and the tick of a clock from somewhere in the house.

Ichabod nuzzled his nose against the back of her ear. Was it too soon to tell her he loved her? That he could very easily imagine spending the rest of his life in her arms, making her body sing with ecstasy.

_You haven't even taken her on a date you dolt_, he scolded himself.

Abbie twisted herself around to face Ichabod then tugged at his shoulders until he huddled close and they lay with their legs entwined on the sofa. Her fingers trailed over the scar on his chest, then she patted the center, over his heart as she let out a heavy whoosh of breath. “God,” she sighed with a gentle laugh. “I'm gonna be feeling that for a few days.”

“Did I hurt you?” Ichabod asked, searching her face.

She shook her head. “I meant in a good way, baby,” she replied. Her fingers trailed down his chest and stomach, scratching through the hair along the way. Her eyes lingered on his cock, gleaming with the evidence of their lovemaking. “Damn. You're _still_ hard.”

“Well, you're quite inspirational for such a thing,” Ichabod murmured which made Abbie grin. “When would you like to eat food?”

Ichabod felt his face heat as Abbie laughed and nuzzled his chest. “It's kind of a requirement for survival, so I try to do it fairly often.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I meant with me. When would you like to eat food with me? In a public place that serves food.” He opened his eyes when Abbie sucked in a breath. Her face had gone somber.

She squirmed and pulled away from him to sit up and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Oh, right… the date thing…" 

He was very aware of the panic on her face. Had he overstepped an unknown boundary? Ichabod tucked himself away into his jeans and zipped the fly closed. “I was… hopeful, yes. As a date, because I would quite enjoy spending time with you in a capacity that doesn't involve my paying you money afterward. I don’t know about you but, it is a little awkward.”

Abbie closed her eyes and shook her head as she chuckled. “Ichabod,” she said, putting a finger over his lips. “You… you seem like a really sweet guy and in normal circumstances, I would say yes but… I… I just got out of a relationship that had a very messy ending. We wanted different things and he used it as an excuse to cheat on me. I’m not--I don't think I’m ready for something serious yet.”

Her eyes flitted to his face as he took her hand. “Understandable,” Ichabod said gently. 

She reached up with her free hand and dabbed at her eyes. “He wanted kids and thought I would change my mind. And when I didn't… he tried to be underhanded to get his way and…”

“You do not owe me an explanation, Abigail,” Ichabod said.

Abbie smiled bashfully. “Sorry. I was just wanting to get it off my chest.”

“Then, by all means, pardon my interruption,” Ichabod apologized. “Please continue.”

Abbie blinked at him and tilted her head curiously before she continued. “I found out he was trying to sabotage my birth control,” she said. “His plan almost worked but I made sure he understood that I did not want children under any circumstances. If he wanted to be with me, he had to accept that. 

“I thought things were fine. I thought we were fine. But then he suddenly broke things off and not even two days later he's getting married to some girl he knocked up.”

Ichabod gently squeezed her hand. “You must have been devastated.”

“I was, _I am_ devastated,” Abbie said quietly. “I'm still trying to come to terms with the idea that if I don't want kids I'm probably going to end up alone.” She looked at her own lap. “You’re a great guy. You’re sweet and sexy as fuck… and damn it if I haven’t been able to do anything but think about you for the last few days. I just… don’t want to get into something, knowing it’s not going to work.”

“If you do not mind my asking,” Ichabod trod carefully, knowing somewhat how it felt to be in her position - not wanting children, having a partner that did and they're trying to force the issue. The devastating betrayal of when they ultimately cheated because you refused to yield to their demand. “What made you realize you never wanted children?”

Abbie smiled gently and patted his hand. “Don't get me wrong. I love kids. I love their energy. Their love of life… I just prefer returning them to who they belong to at the end of the day. I prefer the idea of being the cool carefree wine auntie that spoils her nieces and nephews, hops them up on sugar, then takes them home to my sister close to bedtime.

“But I'd guess I'd say I knew when Jenny was born that I didn't want kids. She was loud. Annoying. And then when our dad split, I was left taking care of her a lot. I didn't like it. Mama would always say, _think of it as practice for when you have kids_.” Abbie sucked in a breath then sighed. “Just one day I decided… nope. Not doing it. I haven't looked back since. No matter how many people tell me I'll change my mind or _what if your future husband wants kids_. As I see it, if they're the right person for me, they won't want kids either. And we'll just have a bunch of cats or dogs instead.”

Oh good Lord, Ichabod thought. If he said he felt the same way, there was a good chance she wouldn't believe him. She’d probably think he was just trying to coerce her into a relationship. Hell, he wouldn't believe him if he were in her position. Already recuperating from being lied to and cheated upon and then to have someone else schmooze up in her time of vulnerability, swearing they felt the same… he'd be skeptical.

“That sounds like a very thrilling and fulfilling goal,” Ichabod said instead.

Abbie smiled and looked up at him. “I just don’t want to get your hopes up. I'm sorry.”

“You do not have to apologize,” Ichabod said softly. “It is fully understandable.” He brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed it.

“Thank you for listening.” Abbie placed her other hand over his and stroked it gently. “Now that we have that big distraction out of the way… maybe now we can get your order in and paid for.”

Ichabod cocked a brow and wondered what she meant by “big distraction” but then her eyes fell to his lap before she smirked and turned back to her laptop to open it. He scooted close so he could get a good look at the screen. “So tell me, what sort of package deals do you have available?”

~*~

Abbie looked up as Jenny knocked and let herself in. Her sister couldn't have had better timing, considering the call she just got off of. Her head was still reeling from it and trying to process it all. Her heart paused as her own face popped up in the line of photos. She blinked at it in confusion for a second before realizing it was the one Ichabod had taken of her the day of the photoshoot.

“That’s a good pic of you,” Jenny commented, looking around cautiously before entering the living room and plopped down in the old rocking chair near the window. “How’d you get that angle on yourself?”

Abbie shook her head. “Ichabod took it while I was doing Jane’s photoshoot.” She sighed then continued to piece together Ichabod's order as Jenny stared at her. “You know it's rude to stare at folks.” She looked at her watch. “What brings you in this late? It's almost nine.”

“I came by earlier but you were busy getting nailed on the sofa,” Jenny said with a sardonic smirk.

Abbie choked on her water in the middle of her sip. “Excuse me?” she yelped.

Jenny cocked a brow. “You heard me. Was that the Crane shoot guy or a new one?” Abbie sputtered. “Not to critique or anything but he had a nice ass for a white dude.”

“_Jenny_,” Abbie gawked. She cleared her throat. “It’s rude to talk like that about our customers. Even if it's a compliment. It's rude. Especially when between his shoot and prints order gave us plenty of profit to cover this month and next month’s bills.”

“Profit is what comes _after_ the bills are all paid Abbie,” Jenny commented. “But I get the sentiment. So are you and this guy going to see each other again?”

Abbie pretended to be busy on the laptop. She knew damn well what Jenny was getting at. Though well-meaning, Jenny was getting into her private matters as always. “Mind your business,” Abbie said slowly. She sighed in defeat. “Yes I'm going to see him again--” Jenny beamed with delight “--but only because he ordered a mounted canvas print and I wouldn't feel comfortable unless I delivered it personally.”

“Yeah, mmhmm, sure Abs,” Jenny laughed. 

Abbie rolled her eyes. “But don't get your hopes up. I already told Ichabod I don’t want kids so to not even bother wasting his time. I told him I just couldn’t do a serious relationship knowing it would have a bad ending…” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Regardless of how fucking great the sex is.”

“Aww come on, Abbie, it's been a year. You can't hold onto what Calvin did forever.” Jenny sat forward in her seat, brows arched with interest. “It’s really good enough for you to blow off a serious relationship?”

“First of all, it _has not_ been a year,” Abbie groused. “It's been eight months and six days. Second, I thought I said not to use that name in this house. Lastly, I can hold on to it as long as I want. And quite frankly, you trying to rush me is going to make me even more resistant. And, yes… he’s a goddamn sex machine…”

“You know what they say, Abbie, fear of the name gives the evil power,” Jenny commented. “Start using his name. Don't let him have power over you. He's a dick. He's gone. You deserve to find happiness, way much more than he does. Not only that, _you_ deserve happiness and great sex.”

“Calvin’s baby is adorable by the way,” Abbie commented. “He actually called me to see if I'd do the birth announcement photos.”

“Urgh,” Jenny scoffed. “You said no, right?” Abbie kept quiet. “Abbie. You said no, right?”

“I heard you the first time,” Abbie replied. 

“Abbie.”

“Look, his wife insisted he ask,” Abbie stated. Jenny made a face. “I even gave him our special friends and family discount.”

“The one where you charge 10% more?” Jenny asked. Abbie nodded. “I love that discount. Did he at least apologize first?”

“Yes,” Abbie stated. “That was actually the first thing he did. Then said he didn't trust anyone else's eyes for the job either.”

Jenny stared at her in silence for a long moment. “I somehow feel he waited until he knew you had gotten some primo dick before calling. Otherwise, you wouldn't have done it. Are you sure this Crane guy isn’t in cahoots with Cal?”

“It's work, Jenny,” Abbie pointed out, rolling her eyes. “I get to go to their house on Monday to do it. Which means… can you do the yearly Reynolds shoot?”

“Yeah it's work but at what cost?” Jenny groaned. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes. I'll be fine. I promise,” Abbie replied. “And the cost is ten percent more than a regular customer pays.”

“I meant the Reynolds shoot,” Jenny commented. “Daniel is a condescending pain in the ass. His mama ain't much better.” Abbie couldn't help but laugh. She had a point. “Can I give them the friends and family discount if Mama Rey gets mouthy with me?”

“I just said… they’ve already been quoted at the friends and family rate,” Abbie said. “If you're lucky, it'll be just like Daniel is in bed.”

“Quick and leaves you with a lingering sense of disappointment?” Jenny quipped, then slapped her knee as she laughed at her own joke.

Abbie opened her mouth to say something but then caught herself and shrugged. “Actually… that's more accurate than what I was going to say.”

Jenny’s eyes flickered back to the laptop. She reached over and pulled up the photo of Abbie with little Jane attacking her hair, Abbie’s eyes dancing with affection and laughter as she looked into the camera. “He has a good eye. If whatever he’s doing for a living doesn't work out, I think he could have a future in photography.”

“I was actually thinking of turning this into our new header,” Abbie muttered. “You know… after heavily cropping it of course.”

“I like it as it is,” Jenny said, shrugging one shoulder. “Hey… neither of us has to work tomorrow… I got a lovely lady I want you to meet...” She reached into the chair next to her then plunked a paper bag wrapped around a bottle down in front of Abbie. Jenny loudly sang the classic stripper music tune as she peeled the bag away from the bottle. “Let's hear it for Miss Ballentine’s seductive dance.”

Rolling her eyes, Abbie shook her head and laughed. “I think I got a few Coke’s in the fridge,” she said, getting up to fetch a deck of cards from the junk drawer. After also retrieving a couple of sodas, she plopped back down at the table. “Let's do this.”


	5. Fifth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes confront their pasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are putting a warning here to let you all know this chapter contains mentions of rape via deception. If that makes you uneasy, please proceed with caution if you wish to do so.

Abbie awoke with a grunt as the sunlight filtered between her curtains. She blinked blearily at the alarm clock then pulled the covers over her head as she let out a mournful _whhhyyyy_. Why had she agreed to do a photoshoot for her ex? Why had she agreed to do it so early in the day?

With a groan, she sat up. 

_Fuck_. 

She was horny. 

Would it be untoward to call someone up for a booty call before having to go deal with Calvin and his perfect wife and his adorable baby in their gorgeous house?

_Urgh_

As she stared up at the ceiling, Mister Sexy McBritish Crane floated into her brain. _No, bad brain_, Abbie scolded herself. But did her brain listen? Hell to the fucking no. Instead, it reminded her of that sound he made while sucking on her clit and the cocky little glimmer in his eyes each time his dick made her keen.

Abbie flopped over onto her stomach and wailed mournfully into her pillow. 

She was tempted to call him up, as his place was actually along the way to Calvin's, and see if he could work within a time limit. Abbie grabbed her phone and quickly tapped out a message and was about to hit send when she suddenly remembered…

He had asked her out on a date. He had held her hand and listened to her as she explained why she said no. 

Abbie hit the back button until the message was completely gone. After all, she didn't want to lead him on. She couldn't just fuck a guy then tell him she didn't want anything more when he was clearly interested.

It wasn't even that _she_ wasn't interested. Who the hell wouldn't be? Tall, handsome, big-dick, eats pussy, British accent. But her heart just kept telling her it was too risky. What if he wanted kids? What if he tried the same underhanded shit as Calvin?

Other parts of her were saying _fuck your heart, I wanna be plowed_. “Fine,” Abbie groused aloud. She quickly tapped out her message, trying to sound casual about it. “But you're not gonna be happy with what you get.”

_On a scale of 1-10, what are the odds of me getting a quickie before work?_

Abbie squeezed her thighs together tightly, waiting for a response. Would he even be awake this time of the morning? Much to her surprise, the response was less than a minute.

**15\. My place or yours?**

_I'll come to yours. Give me half an hour._

Almost exactly half an hour later, Abbie was knocking on a very familiar door and a very familiar face grinned at her as he opened the door. “Hey Abs,” Luke greeted with his infectious grin.

“No talk,” Abbie said with a laugh. “Just get me naked.”

“Yes ma'am,” Luke chuckled, then stepped aside to let her in.

~*~

Good heavens, why was he so needy, Ichabod scolded himself as he rolled over to stare at his phone for the fifth time in twenty minutes. He wished he could blame not getting hugged enough as a child but that wouldn't be true. His mother had practically smothered him with affection (and still did at times).

Maybe that was his problem. He was hugged _too much_ which left him with a constant need to be held and cuddled. 

Jane made a soft _vrrp_ sound and kneaded the side of his face before nuzzling closer. He closed his eyes and smiled as he nuzzled her in return. “I know you love me darling Jane,” Ichabod cooed. “But there are some things which must be seen to by a human being.”

He scowled. “And unfortunately I have this fascinating ability to scare people away with my constant need for affection.” Jane started licking his ear, which made him laugh. “Yes. Yes. I love you too darling. Perhaps we both have an insatiable desire to love and be loved.”

Ichabod's phone pinged softly. His heart leaped into his throat at the thought of Abbie sending him a text missive. When he retrieved it, he was disappointed to find it was simply a friend request on Facebook.

Who the hell was Elizabeth Ross? 

Oh wait. Wasn't that the woman from the pet supply shop? The married one.

He hit ignore then blocked her from contacting him.

There was no way in hell he was getting caught up in that sort of fustercluck. Not again at any rate. He learned his lesson thoroughly via Katrina Van Tassel and Abraham Van Brunt.

And he had told himself _Never Again_. So he was damn sure going to stick to it.

Besides, it wouldn't be fair to pursue a relationship with someone when he had another on his mind. Not his former fiancèe, thank God. Instead, for once, his head was full of a certain stunningly beautiful photographer. 

One would probably assume he was lingering on the blissful feeling of her wrapped around his cock or perhaps the way she keened when he hit the right spot relentlessly. Instead, he was thinking of the way her hair fanned along her cheek, her shy smile as she tucked the loose strands behind her ear.

Perhaps it wouldn't be untoward to think of her dainty hands encircling his member as she slid it into her mouth as deep as she could. But instead, he thought of sunlight dappled on her warm brown skin as she knelt over him, camera in hand.

Her laugh. The way she bit her lip just before gasping his name. Her dark, heavy-lidded eyes on his face. His brain may not have been thinking of their sensual encounters but another part of him certainly was and now stood at full attention. Good heavens. 

That same part also fancied the idea of having its picture taken and sending it to her. Thankfully his rational side put a halt to that idea immediately. She hadn't asked, therefore it was not welcome.

However, he could perhaps send her a text missive to wish her good morning.

No.

She had also been very clear that she was not interested in a relationship. Therefore he needed to not be his normal needy self and do things like that. Although, he could just be honest with her and tell her he didn’t want children either. That would solve a lot of the issues holding her back. _But what if she just thought he was saying it to lure her into a relationship_?

His phone pinged again. 

Ichabod frowned when he saw it was a tag from his mother. A photo to be precise. Of her. At the bloody JFK airport. _In America for a surprise intervention for my baby boy **Ichabod Crane**. Mum's about to stuff him full of proper British food and biscuits then get him a wife or husband!_

He narrowed his eyes. Intervention? For what?

Ichabod groaned in irritation as the rest of her message sank in. 

Why him?

Why?

~*~

Abbie sighed with irritation as she stared at the sprawling estate in front of her. It was more than a little intimidating. Even more intimidating was that this is what Calvin upgraded to. 

They had met through a photography class she had taken. He was a guest speaker, talking about the opportunities available in photography, techniques, and equipment. He had been admiring some of her early attempts, was charming, and after a few whirlwind encounters, they had started dating.

She had made it clear from the beginning she didn't want kids. He had said he understood and was okay with it because he didn't either. Three years into the relationship he changed his mind and started going on about having a little girl with her eyes. Abbie had tried curbing it then and there, reminding him that kids were a thing she did not want.

_“I'm sure you'd change your mind if you ever got pregnant,” he had joked._

_Abbie glared at him. “I don't want to wait until I get pregnant to solidify the idea I don't want kids.”_

She had thought that was the end of that. She had even suggested they part ways over it but he had insisted he would be okay. But then he had started with the shady stuff. 

Forgetting to bring his own condoms. _ “Don't worry babe, I got plenty,” she would tell him_. Insisting they didn't have to worry since she was on birth control anyway. _“Better safe than sorry, babe.”_ And then he had started sneaking a couple of pills at a time out of her packets. Just enough to make her question if maybe she was off on her days.

Then was the creative one. He got her in the damn activated charcoal trend. He had pointed out all the health benefits, none of the side effects. Such as her birth control not working. 

So naturally, it was a surprise to her when she actually did end up getting pregnant. Which she found out from her doctor about the reason why her birth control hadn't worked.

He had played innocent when she confronted him about it. He had insisted he hadn't known. _“I know you got doubts babe,” Calvin said softly. “But I promise I'll take care of both of y’all. This was obviously just meant to be.” He grinned brightly. “We're having a baby!”_

_“No, Calvin, we're not having a baby. I've told you time and time again, I do not want kids.” _

_“Give it a day or two to get used to the idea…”_

_“I don't need a day or two,” Abbie said. “I already took care of things.”_

_“Wait… what do you mean you already took care of things? We didn't even talk about it until just now,” Calvin scoffed._

_“I wasn't aware, in the great state of New York, that I needed your permission to terminate a pregnancy I didn't want,” Abbie stated, looking him dead in the eyes. “When I said I didn't want kids, I meant I don't want kids, Calvin. You need to stop with this nonsense of trying to change my mind. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to call my boss and let him know I need to be on light duty for a week or two because my goddamn boyfriend can’t get it through his thick fucking skull that I don’t want kids.”_

He hadn't been able to look at her in the eyes for at least a month. They went through another rough patch and then things started looking up again. But then...

_“Hey babe the jeweler called and said it was time for the inspection on your ring,” Calvin said._

_She handed the ring over without another thought so he could go and get done what needed to be done. It had been sort of routine so she hadn’t thought anything of it._

Then that night he came home and claimed something had caused the ring to need to go in for extensive repair. When she had asked, he cited an issue with the cleaning machine. That's when he dropped the bomb.

_“I think this is a sign, babe. Maybe this isn't going to work after all.”_

Abbie had been disappointed, yes. After all the emotional energy they had put into things, for him to finally see he wasn't going to get his way. At the time Abbie had felt a weight come off her shoulders. She had felt set free. She had even gone out with Jenny to celebrate.

But then she found out he got married two days later. Then she found out his new wife was already three months on. 

That was when the feelings of betrayal hit her hard. He had been cheating on her. Not only that, he had gotten the other woman pregnant. It was glaringly obvious why he had finally decided they weren't going to work.

Taking a deep breath, Abbie steeled herself. She was going to be professional about this. Even if Luke hadn't done the trick like she had figured he wouldn't. Oh, it had been a quickie like she had wanted. But he hadn't quite finished her off before finishing himself and ceasing further attempts to pleasure her. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. That was his thing. He thought if a woman made even the slightest sound that she had come it meant he was required to hurry to get his.

Now she was even worse off than when she woke up that morning. She should have just called Ichabod and been done with it. She would have probably have had to call and reschedule Calvin's shoot but she would have had some excellent laying of pipe.

Abbie shoved her door open and climbed out of the car. She retrieved her camera and a few other supplies from the backseat, then made her way to the bright blue door. Taking another deep breath, she pushed the doorbell.

She didn't know what she would do if a fucking butler answered the door. She'd probably nope her way back to the car and go home. Thankfully she was spared finding out. Instead, a modelesque woman in four-inch heels and a designer skirt suit answered the door, a bright and perfect smile on her face, and a baby cradled in her arms.

“Hi,” the woman greeted cheerfully, stretching out a hand. “You must be Abbie! Cal has told me so much about you! I'm so excited!”

Abbie blinked as she shook the woman's hand. _Wow, she was pretty._ “He has, has he?”

“Oh! My manners!” She put her hand to her chest. “I'm Makena. And this is my beautiful and precious, Naya. Come in, come in!” After closing the door, Makena scurried ahead, her heels making excited clicks across the floor. “Cal, Honey! Your old roommate is here!”

Old roommate? Abbie almost laughed. Oh, this was going to be epic. Not only did she feel like she was in black Malibu Barbie's dream house, but apparently Barbie didn't know the truth about her Ken.

Suddenly Abbie was really looking forward to this shoot. She wasn't going to start shit, but she was definitely going to enjoy making Calvin really fucking uncomfortable.

“So, Makena,” Abbie started. “How did you and Calvin meet?”

“He was a guest artist at an expo my daddy's company was sponsoring. Daddy couldn't go so I went because _someone_ had to,” her face lit up as Calvin made his way down the elaborate staircase. “I just knew the moment we met…”

Abbie had thought seeing him would bring all the heartache and hurt she had been feeling to the surface. Truth be known, her heart did skip a little, but all she could feel at that moment was irritation. Irritated that he was deceiving yet another woman in such a way. 

Calvin gave Makena a kiss on the cheek then gave the baby one on her forehead. “There's my pretty girls,” Calvin greeted. He looked at Abbie and she saw him suck in a breath. “Abbie, looking good. How nice to see you again.”

Abbie smiled her best. “It's always good to see my _old roomie_.” She gave him finger guns and playfully punched his arm. She laughed when he fidgeted uncomfortably. “He's been acting like he's too good to spend time with us little folk since he got himself married.”

Makena gawked. “As much time as he spends out, I thought he would have at least spent time with you. Especially since he was always going on about your art when we first met!”

Abbie cocked a brow. “Well, it _is_ a little unusual for a woman to be okay with her man hanging out with other women. Y'all must have a lot of trust between you.”

“We do,” Calvin intoned. “Makena thinks it's important for a relationship to be built on complete trust and love.”

“Plus I realize lots of artists and models these days are women,” Makena stated, a jaunty wave to her head. “So I'd be in a shape if I didn't trust my man around other women. Besides, he said you were a lesbian so… nothing to worry about. When I saw some of your samples I was like, Cal, we _have_ to have her do the baby pictures. Not only because you are fantastic but because I absolutely have to support my gay, black sisters.”

“Actually I'm bi, but, all the same, if you ask Cal,” Abbie said, shooting Calvin a smug smile.

Makena gave Calvin's arm a swat. “Bi and lesbian are two different things, Callie,” she scolded lightly.

He closed his eyes and quietly said, “I know, I know. Sorry… it's disrespectful.”

“My older sister is a lesbian, which is why I'm super supportive,” Makena chimed. “So if you're single, like your ladies a little butch, and love to spoiled...” She gave Abbie a suggestive eyebrow waggle. “I could give her your number.”

Abbie perked up slightly at that. But then the thought of having to possibly spend time with Calvin on the regular made that puppy heel. “That'd be nice but… I'm still kinda coping with a recent break-up. Found out my ex fiancè was cheating on me for almost eight months.”

“Oh my gosh, that's terrible,” Makena said. She waved her hand toward a lavish sitting room. “Let's have a sit-down, I'll get Mina to bring some drinks and snacks.”

She handed the baby over to Calvin and scurried away. Abbie followed him to the sitting room. His eyes softened as he looked at her. “You're just as beautiful as I remember.”

Abbie cocked her head. “Is that how you talk to your other old roommates, _Callie_?”

He swallowed hard. “Look, I couldn't tell her…”

“What? That she was your side piece while we were together? Did she even know you were in a relationship?” Abbie asked. “How many lies am I going to have to keep straight for you while I'm here?” She shook her head. “I can't believe you, right now, Calvin. She seems like a legitimately sweet woman. I can’t believe you would do something like this not only to me but to her.”

“She is,” Calvin said, looking down at the baby. “Which is why I said what I had to. I don't want to mess this good thing up. Her father is a goddamn senator, I can do my photography all day without having to worry about selling anything. Just like you and me always wanted...”

“Must be nice to freeload of off someone with a clean conscious,” Abbie grumbled. God, her blood was boiling. Calvin was still a selfish ass prick. “Naya is beautiful.”

“Would have preferred her to be yours,” Calvin said softly.

Abbie gave him a hard stare as she shook her head. “You’re disgusting, Cal. You don’t deserve any of this. You sure as hell don’t deserve Makena. It’d be a real shame if she found out the truth wouldn’t it? YOu know, there is a word for what you did to me. It’s a four letter word that starts with an R, ends with an E.”

Calvin looked up, suddenly panicked. “Don't.”

“Don't what?” Abbie asked. “I'm not going to do anything untoward. I'm not going to start shit. Oh no, I'm just going to nudge the carpets covering the holes you already dug.”

How had she spent so long letting this man control her heart? 

Makena came clicking back in, phone in hand. “Mina should be along in a few minutes,” she chimed. “And would you believe that hoe sister of mine has a girlfriend? The nerve.” She scoffed and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “So where do we begin?”

Abbie beamed at Makena. “Well, you did the hard part of making a beautiful baby.” This made Makena feign bashfulness, lightly touching Abbie's and leaning in close. God, Abbie had half a damn mind to steal Calvin’s woman herself. Especially if she kept being all touchy-feely like she was. “What I normally like to do is ask if there is any specific places and settings you had in mind? I have a ton of props in my car so there's plenty of options.”

Oh, Makena had ideas. So many ideas. None of which included herself or Calvin to be involved. So there were pics of Naya in a basket, pics of Naya swaddled and surrounded by flowers, pics of Naya in a washtub. Abbie wished each one didn’t make her think of an adorable black kitten and a stupidly handsome Brit.

At some point, Cal apparently felt comfortable that she wasn’t going to start shit and wandered off. Almost immediately Makena eased up Abbie’s side to get a better look at things. Abbie found herself getting distracted by Makena’s perfume, her deep and sultry tone. At one point, Abbie glanced over and Makena was gazing at her with a smile and bright, trusting eyes, close enough Abbie could have easily stolen a kiss if Makena hadn’t ducked her head shyly and moved away.

“You're so good with babies,” Makena commented, playing with a pillow off the sofa. “I bet you would make a great mom.”

Abbie chuckled. “Nah. I'll make a much better eccentric wine auntie,” she replied. She braced herself for the inevitable. Instead she saw the overly delighted façade fade from Makena’s face.

“I used to think the same way but then Naya surprised us,” Makena said with a sigh. “I’m always so scared of messing up because I didn’t get into the whole maternal instinct thing. Don't get me wrong, I love her to death and I will do anything to protect her. I’m going to do everything I can to be a good mom and make sure she never feels unwanted. But… you do you, hon.”

A chill coursed up Abbie's spine. “A surprise, huh?”

Makena laughed. “Oh yeah. I was on birth control, Cal was using condoms, everything we could think of to prevent it and behold… I got pregnant anyway. Cal said it must have been a sign.” She beamed. “But as I said, I'd do anything for her now that she's here.”

Oh hell no… he did the same exact thing to Makena as he did to her? What the ever-living fuck? He even used the same _must have been a sign_ shit?

“Huh, interesting,” Abbie hummed, barely able to keep the anger out of her voice. “You're not the first girl that's happened to with Cal. He had a girlfriend about a year ago that he was manipulating her birth control so she’d get pregnant.” 

All at once Makena's face turned thunderous and Abbie thought maybe she had overstepped a line. “He did _what_? Oh my God, that poor girl. Was she okay? Is she okay?”

Abbie nodded. “She's fine. Has a few trust issues but… she's gonna be just fine, I think.” And just like that, Abbie felt that sense of freedom she had first felt when her and Cal broke up. For the first time in months she felt like she _was_ going to be fine. She was going to be fucking fabulous. “He wasn't happy when she got an abortion, but you know.” She glanced toward Makena. The other woman's face was a mix of emotions. “I'm sure that's not what happened with you. Maybe it _was_ divine intervention. He wouldn't be dumb enough to try the same stuff more than once.”

“Like, what kind of stuff?” Makena asked quietly. Abbie could practically see the gears turning in Makena’s head.

Shrugging with indifference, Abbie replied, “Slipping a few pills out of the b.c. packet every couple days, got her on the activated charcoal trend, convinced her they were okay to go without condoms every now and then…” Makena's eyes grew wide and vacant, as if lost in thought. “He even admitted to putting holes in the condoms that he used for their intimate times.”

“Oh my God,” Makena said, her voice barely above a whisper. Then she looked close to tears. “Oh my God. It all makes so much sense now. _Oh my God_. I'm so stupid. And I fell for it.”

Abbie reached out and put a hand over Makena's. “Hey, you'll be okay. I promise.”

Makena smiled tightly and put her hand over Abbie's. “I'm sorry he did that to you, sweetie.” 

Abbie felt her heart stumble in her chest. “It… it wasn't…”

“Yes it was,” Makena said, nodding. “I knew the moment you looked at him that he had done something. And there was always just so many holes in his stories…” She took a deep breath. “And you did the right thing, sweetie. Just like I'm going to.” She shook her head, dabbing at tears. “That… dick. God…”

“Complete trust, eh?” Abbie said with a small smile.

Makena shook her head. “I may look like a dumb bitch but trust me, I know when not to trust someone. As I said, there was a bunch of stuff that wasn’t adding up with Cal, I just couldn’t figure it out… Thankfully I have a wonderful family for support and Naya will be just fine growing up without that fuck boy being in the picture.”

“Look, you don't have to--”

Makena arched her perfectly manicured brow. “I said I would do anything to protect my daughter and make sure she’s loved. And I just don't feel comfortable with the idea of someone that did what he did around my baby.” She beamed sweetly. “I was still trying to wrap my head around being pregnant when he insisted we get married… and I just fell right into it…”

“So what are you going to do?” Abbie asked. 

“I am… definitely going to be telling my friends to use you. Naya hasn't hardly peeped the entire time and I'm sure everything will turn out gorgeous.” She gave Abbie a quick kiss on the cheek. “And tonight I'm going to take Cal to a nice restaurant, give him divorce papers, and layout the terms of it,” Makena said. “And then I will live happily ever after with Naya in our big pretty house and I will tell her I used a sperm donor until I think she's old enough to handle the truth.”

“You sure you don't want any pictures of you and her together?” Abbie asked. “I think the little swing on the oak tree would make a beautiful setting.”

Makena looked across the property to the place Abbie had mentioned. “You know what, you're right. That would be awesome. See… I knew you had a good eye!”

About an hour later, Abbie bid Makena and Naya goodbye and gave Calvin a smug smile that made him look nervous. As she climbed into her car, she couldn't help but think she had earned herself a Starbucks.

~*~

“And don't misunderstand me, Ichabod,” Mum drawled. “Jane is _adorable_. She's positively precious. But it's not the same as having an actual daughter of your own someday.”

Ichabod gripped the steering wheel tightly and sighed heavily. “Mum, you wish for me to be happy, yes?”

“Well of course, what mother doesn't want her son to be happy,” Mum squeaked.

“Then it would stand to reason that if I said I had no desire for children, that having some would go against my being happy,” Ichabod pointed out. “So do you want grandchildren or do you want me to be happy?”

Mum sputtered incoherently for a moment. “I think you would be happy with children.”

“I'm happy without them,” Ichabod stated, putting the car into park. “Do you wish to go in with me and Jane or do you want to wait out here?”

Mum eyed the pet store. “This isn't Starbucks. I told you, I want a proper cup of _American_ Starbucks.”

“Yes, well, Jane is out of her favorite treats and this is the only place I have been able to find them.” Ichabod himself eyed the building with trepidation. He was silently praying to whatever God existed that Elizabeth was not at work today. “We can go to Starbucks once we're done here.”

“I think I would like to join you,” Mum stated. “The plane ride was so long. It would be nice to stretch my legs.”

Ichabod arched a brow as he gazed at his mother. She gave him a pleasant smile. She was scheming something. He knew it. Deep in his bones he knew she was going to try something silly. But if he told her to stay in the car now, it would be suspect.

So, he carefully loaded Jane into her little carrier and the three of them went inside. He placed Jane in the child seat of the trolley. Ichabod looked around cautiously as he made his way inside. So far so good.

Now he just needed to get in and then get right out without being detected. It was late enough in the day that maybe he would be lucky.

That was when he spotted her.

Elizabeth.

She was still lovely. Still gratuitously stuffed into snug clothing that showed off her _assets_. And distracted by a young couple with a poodle, arguing at her. Fantastic. 

Perhaps the powers that be would keep her at bay.

Just then she looked up and their eyes met. She smiled brightly. Ichabod dashed down the fish aisle. He seriously needed to see if he could get Jane's treats off of Chewy. Especially if he was going to have to play dodge each time he needed to get more. 

“Ichabod,” Mum huffed. “Where are you going? This is fish supplies!”

Ichabod turned toward his mother. “Mum, we must get in and out as quickly as possible.” She blinked up at him questioningly. “There is a woman here--”

“Oh?” Mum chirped. “Is she pretty?”

“She's lovely but that's beside the point,” he said hurriedly. “She's a married woman and neglected to inform me of this prior to our having relations.”

At that, Mum puffed up. “She must be one of those _tall ladies_. What have I told you about women over 160, Ichabod? They can't be trusted.”

Ichabod snorted slightly and turned away. He always thought his mum's distrust of women taller than 5’4” was amusing. He had always assumed it was because she, herself, was an entire 4’10”. But to be honest, so far she hadn't been wrong. It always seemed he had the worst luck with taller women. He was absolutely certain that was just a coincidence.

Although come to think of it, Elizabeth was within his mother’s height limit… so his mother had to be wrong.

Ichabod quickly navigated his way to the cat section. He screeched to a halt when he saw Elizabeth already heading down the aisle a big smile on her lips. 

“Ichabod! I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” she greeted cheerily.

It took every ounce of his willpower to not say “I was.”

His mum tutted with disapproval. “As any proper gentleman should do to a married woman...”

Elizabeth's eyes fell to his mother. “Oh hello, ma'am,” she said. “Did you need help finding anything?”

“I need help finding my darling son a wife but that's none of your concern,” Mum huffed. 

“Oh, you're Ichabod’s mother I take it?” Elizabeth asked sweetly. “I can certainly understand his not responding to any of my attempts to contact him if Mom is visiting. You are probably keeping him very busy.”

Ichabod busied himself with selecting boxes of the little treats Jane adored--they resembled the little beef jerky sticks but came in delightful flavours such as chicken and salmon. Jane was a bit fond of salmon. He plucked the three boxes off the shelf in an attempt to keep from freaking out.

“I just got in thank you,” Mum said. “If he's been avoiding you it's because he knows better than to get involved with a married trollop and that you should learn to take a hint.”

Dear old mum, always saying precisely what she felt, Ichabod thought with bemusement. Good Lord he needed to get out of this place. He could feel an anxiety attack brewing and wondered how long it would take for it to set off… Normally it would have set off by now. Just his luck, to be honest.

Elizabeth's jaw dropped in surprise. “Oh, well, I won't be married much longer. My husband wants a divorce--”

“Smart man,” Mum snipped.

“Because I found out I was pregnant,” Elizabeth said, tossing her hair elegantly over her shoulder, looking at Ichabod pointedly. 

Mum grasped the collar of her blouse and gasped scandalously. “Imagine that! A married woman, pregnant. Unheard of!”

“Congratulations,” Ichabod said dismissively. “On both aspects I suppose.”

Elizabeth cocked her head. “I haven't been intimate with my husband for several months.”

“Well it's not mine,” Ichabod stated plaintively. “So I would perhaps inform any other gentlemen you have consorted with recently.”

Mum's face lit up like a Christmas tree. “So you say my Ichabod has gotten you with child?” she preened. _No, no, no, no, no… not the magic words to get his mum started._

“Yes, he has,” Elizabeth said with a luminous smile.

“No I have not,” Ichabod piped.

“Well I hate to air your dirty laundry in front of your mother in public but, you blocked me on Facebook and Instagram so we couldn’t talk about this,” Elizabeth said with a hint of gloating to her voice. “_You_ didn't use a condom.”

“And hate for my mother to hear this in such an undignified manner but,” Ichabod said slowly. His heart was racing but he was too angry to back down now. “_I_ had a vasectomy over three years ago. I was cleared completely by my doctor as being incapable of producing children. Therefore it would be in your best interest to speak to whomever else you had relations with recently.”

He wasn't sure who was more horrified, Elizabeth or his mother. Or perhaps it was Jane who let out a quizzical _naow_ and pawed at the boxes of treats that were just out of her reach.

Slowly realization washed over Elizabeth's face and was replaced by disgust. “But there's only one other option and…” her face twisted and she brought the back of her hand to her mouth to suppress a heave.

Mum was just staring at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. “_You did what_?” she finally barked.

Ichabod sighed. “I'll explain further in the car. This is not the place to have such _private discussions_.” He looked toward Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, I do apologize. I know you had your hopes high.”

Elizabeth looked like she had suddenly smelled something incredibly disgusting. She shook her head and hurried away quickly. 

Mum sniffed indignantly. “So I will never be a grandmother?” she asked as they made their way to the counter.

“There's Jane. And there is always the possibility I may wed someone who already has children,” Ichabod pointed out. “After all it would be unrealistic to expect a woman my own age to be childless.”

Mum smiled at that. “My sweet, clever son,” she said, reaching up to pinch his cheek. She eyed the young woman behind the register. “Do you like cats, young lady?”

“I'm allergic, ma'am,” the young woman replied.

With a shrug, Mum sighed, “Oh well.”

Oh good lord, now his mum was going to be acting dramatic all day. As they made their way out to the car, Ichabod looked down at his mother. “You didn't fail as a mother,” he said gently. “And I understand you are disappointed.”

“I'm more disappointed that you didn't tell me when you had it done,” she said with a hint of woe. “It's a big decision.”

“One that I was more than capable of deciding on my own,” Ichabod pointed out. “Katrina had been fine with the idea of not having children. But she changed her mind when all her friends started having children and tried to convince me to change my mind as well. I had the procedure done to prevent any 'accidents’ without telling her.”

“Understandable. That red-headed harpy is enough to make any man want to get snipped,” Mum grumbled. “_And_ she was entirely too tall.”

Ichabod smirked as he cranked the car then let Jane free from her carrier. She clamored onto the dash and stretched out in the sunlight. “Sometime after I was cleared by the doctor, Katrina announced that she was with child.” He pressed his lips into a hard line. “That's how I discovered she was having an affair with Bram. I was actually willing to marry her anyway, but then she miscarried and... We tried to make it work but she left me for Bram on New Year's Eve.”

Mum patted his arm. “Well, considering she left Bram for you, I'm not at all surprised. And she's practically a step ladder, son, so what did you expect? Now, let's go get some coffee, son. You promised.”

“Single tracked minded as always,” Ichabod sighed. “Next stop, Starbucks.”

~*~

Brigid Crane loved her son dearly. It had just been the two of them after his father passed and so she had become incredibly protective of him. Probably to the point she could say that was why he had such a hard time in social situations.

On fabulous days, he was a social butterfly, whisking into busy stores with ease, charming everyone he saw. On reasonably good days, he could visit shops as long as it wasn't too terribly busy. On bad days he wouldn't even leave the house as the possibility of having to share the lift with the operator was too much.

Today was one of his reasonably good days. This was despite the confrontation at the pet supply store and her surprising him. At least she hadn’t made him meet her inside the airport, she was perfectly fine with him waiting for her at the curb because she knew he might not be in a state to be around people. He had been glum the last few days so she had taken the risk to visit.

Brigid looked at the kitten currently grooming herself on the dashboard. “I warrant you have something to do with his being okay today,” she said, rubbing between the kitten's ears. Jane made a soft _vvmmp_ sound and abandoned her cleaning to enjoy the affection.

She adjusted the air conditioning vents o blow directly on her face then looked up to see Ichabod through the window of the coffee shop. He was chatting to a lovely young woman. She stood only to just below his shoulder and was grinning charmingly up at him as they spoke. Brigid's brows arched curiously.

Her son chatting with a pretty girl on merely a “passable” day? And… was he… _flirting_? Oh! He was! How very delightful indeed!

Now she was full of questions. Who was she? Was she single? Did Ichabod already know her? More importantly, did she share Ichabod’s lack of desire for children? 

Suddenly Ichabod jumped and dashed toward the counter to retrieve the two cups of coffee. He returned to the woman, making a sweeping gesture toward the exit. The woman gave a luminous smile and followed him.

Like a true gentleman, he proceeded out of the door first and used his foot to hold the door open for her. Oh! She was even more lovely in the sunlight!

Her son seemed to completely forget about his own car and bound to an older car to open the door--precariously juggling the two cups in his hands.

Jane focused in on Ichabod and made a soft sound, jutting her chin slightly. “Curiouser and curiouser,” Brigid hummed as she watched Ichabod wait for the woman to back out and drive away.

He stood there, dazed, until Brigid reached over to press the horn. His face flushed and he hurried to the car to get in. He handed Brigid her coffee.

“Who was that, Ichabod? A friend?” she asked, then sipped her sugary brew. Oh that is perfect...

Ichabod rubbed Jane behind her ears. “That was Abbie. The photographer that did the pictures of Jane. She was letting me know the large print I ordered of Jane should be in Friday morning.”

“She certainly seemed interested in more than a large photograph,” Brigid pointed out. 

“She is currently emotionally unavailable,” he said with a heavy sigh, putting the car in reverse. His expression saddened and she immediately knew the lovely young woman was probably the reason why.

Brigid patted her son's knee. “You don't have to be emotionally available to have a quick shag.”

“Mum!” 

“I'm just saying,” Brigid commented. “For the longest time after your father died…”

“_Mum, no_.”

“I had no shortage of handsome men vying for my favor,” she continued. “But it never went beyond a quick tumble and I sent them on their way.” She blinked at her son. “Perhaps you should present the idea of just being… oh, what do they call it these days? Fuck buddies. Who knows what that could lead to...”

“Please stop talking,” Ichabod groaned. “Besides, I already lay my heart out for her and she politely declined.”

Brigid clicked her tongue. “I suppose there is nothing more you can do. Other than hope you keep bumping into each other and eventually she be willing and able.”

At that, her son smiled. “Perhaps.”


	6. Sixth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid heroes meet up once again

This was beginning to be a problem.

This was the fourth time this week Abbie had woke up horny as fuck. She blamed running into Ichabod at Starbucks when she was on her way home from the shoot with Calvin's baby. He had looked like a damn snack, as always. She had already been standing in line thinking about him, then as soon as she had turned to leave, he had walked in.

It had been like being stuck in a romantic comedy. The sun casting an angelic glow around him. His hair tousled as he dragged his fingers through it, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up… All it needed was a classic rock song--probably one by Marvin Gaye or the Monkees--and for it to have been in slow motion.

Their eyes met and she watched the way his eyes darkened as he gave her that panty-dropping smile. Dammit all to hell if he hadn't been entertaining his dear old mum. If mama hadn't been there, Abbie was certain she would have been following him home for a dick riding.

Fortunately, as of yesterday, she was prepared for this very eventuality. That's right. As of last night, she no longer had to call old flames that couldn't do what Ichabod was capable of.

She rolled over to her bedside table and opened the drawer to remove a box, a bottle of toy cleaner, and a bottle of lube. Abbie had spent two hours trying to find the perfect vibrator to do the trick. Two hours of testing thickness, considering materials, and sampling vibration strength, and she walked out with a long, thick "real feel" vibe with a wireless remote.

At first, Abbie had been hesitant with the size, considering she wasn't going to be having that relentless pleasure machine making her squeal with his mouth and fingers beforehand. But the cashier had pointed out _Just about anything can fit with the right amount of lube_.

Well, now she was going to find out if this fell under the “just about anything” category.

Abbie gave the _instrument_ a thorough cleaning then slipped her shorts off. Taking a deep breath, she applied a generous amount of lube, then set to her… task. 

Once she had it deep enough, she rolled onto her knees and set the back end of the device against the mattress while she rose and fell, as if riding an invisible lover. The device was _filling_, to say the least, but then she pushed the button to start the vibration. 

“Shit,” Abbie gasped. She had never considered herself a size queen but… Damn, it felt good when she amped up the speed and bounced faster on it. Her eyes fluttered closed as she roamed her hands up her belly and her breasts to tweak her nipples. 

She could just imagine Ichabod up under her, his eyes bright and full of wonder as he watched her coming undone on his cock. Her walls clenched hard at the thought. 

Abbie fell face-first into her pillow with a whimper as she came. After taking a moment to recuperate, she turned the device off and rolled onto her back with a heavy sigh. 

She didn't get it.

It hadn't done the trick like she had hoped. Sure she had actually come this time but… it hadn't been the same. It hadn't hit all the right spots as he had. It hadn't even been remotely close to the real thing.

_Dammit._

Suddenly she heard the door downstairs close. “_Special delivery_! Adorable but stupidly large kitten print!” Jenny called from down below. A smile spread over Abbie's face. “That you, for some reason insist, needs to be hand-delivered by you.”

Oh, that's right. His print was due to be delivered today. Maybe there was a way to get the relief she actually wanted after all.

Abbie hurried out of bed and cleaned herself up before dashing downstairs. “Don’t play Jenny, you know exactly why it needs to be hand delivered.”

Jenny blinked at her and had the decency to look stunned. “Wow, I figured after spending two hours at the sex shop you wouldn’t be needing to be dicked down by a living and breathing human being.”

“_Just give me the goddamn print, Jenny_,” Abbie snapped.

Her sister was cackling the entire time she handed it over.

~*~

“Oh, you're only showing off because your Dad isn't here,” Brigid scolded with a cheerful smile. She wriggled her fingers and Jane’s little eyes widened. She opened her mouth wide as her little paws flailed, trying to capture Brigid's fingers. Brigid lightly booped Jane's nose, causing the kitten to freeze. “Ah, so that's the off button, is it?”

Brigid chuckled softly. Jane was adorable and full of energy like any kitten her age. She was “babysitting” whilst her son was off trying to settle some business affairs that he had been mentally preparing himself for since yesterday.

Suddenly Jane became doubly animated. All four of her legs and her little head flailing about before she rolled over on Brigid's lap. She darted off to attack a little ball with a toy mouse in it that squeaked as it bounced across the floor.

It really was almost exactly like watching a grandchild scamper around playing. Oh, she was still trying to get used to the idea of having feline grandkids but she was rapidly seeing the similarities. Especially since Jane had such a _human_ personality.

As if to emphasize the point, Jane dove atop the mouse ball. Both she and the ball rolled right into the wall. Brigid laughed as Jane looked around confused, then shook her head to clear it. Jane wasn’t that much different than Ichabod as a boy, to be honest. He had done something similar when he was three. Jane bolted to her feet and scampered toward the door, her little tail flicking curiously.

The kitten stood, alert, near the door, looking up. _Naaoooowww_. Brigid frowned. That was certainly curious behavior. Just as she was about to call the kitten, a light knock rapped on the door.

Brigid stood and shuffled across the room to the door. Who in the Dickens would be paying her son a visit? She scooped Jane into her arms and cradled her to her chest. The peephole was out of her reach, so Brigid simply cracked the door open to peer out. “Hello, may I help you?”

The woman at the door beamed a smile. It was the pretty lass from Starbucks! “Oh!” she said in surprise. “Hello, Mrs. Crane. I'm Abbie Mills with Amazing Grace Photography. I was bringing Ichabod the custom print he ordered.”

Brigid peered down at Jane and smiled before looking up at Abbie. “Of _course_ you are,” she chimed, opening the door enough to let Abbie in. “Do come in, Dear. Come in, come in.”

She looked Abbie over as she entered. Brigid could tell that prints were not the only thing Abbie had been wanting to give her son. Her little cut off shorts showed off her surprisingly long legs and the little yellow crocheted crop top showed off everything except her breasts and a small portion of her belly. Even her back was almost fully exposed.

It wasn't too far off from what she would wear back in her day to catch the eye of a handsome lad at a concert or festival. Although Abbie had a much more curvaceous figure.

“I'm afraid Ichabod isn't home at the moment, love,” Brigid said, rubbing Jane's cheek. “He had to do his bill runs and I'm uncertain as to when he will return.”

She watched Abbie's lips form a little pout. “Oh, well, that's okay.” Her shoulders slumped with disappointment. “Where would be a good place to leave all of this?”

“On the kitchen table will be fine, dear,” Brigid said. “There's no need to rush away. He may well be back shortly. Why not wait for about ten minutes and I will make us a spot of tea?”

Abbie tilted her head as she grinned. “Thank you, ma'am,” she said, then followed her to the kitchen. She placed the pictures on the table and took a seat at the island as Brigid set Jane on it. Jane scampered over to Abbie. Abbie leaned down enough to boop her forehead to Jane's. “Hey, there little sweetie.”

Brigid set to making tea, watching Abbie interact with Jane. She was cooing and nuzzling Jane affectionately. Abbie was incredibly lovely, she observed. So far she seemed sweet as well. No wonder Ichabod fancied her.

Abbie scratched her nails down Jane's back, the kitten practically pushed onto her toes to arch into the touch and she purred loudly in response. “You're such a sweet little girl,” Abbie cooed and kissed Jane between the ears. “Daddy's taking good, good care of you, isn't he? Yes… yes, he is, sweet girl. God, you’re so adorable...”

With a smile, Brigid dared to venture, “You seem a kind hearted lass. I'm certain you'll be a good mum.” She dared not let on that Ichabod had already told her that she didn’t want to have children. However, Brigid was absolutely not above casually letting on that her son didn’t wish to have any either. Maybe it would help Abbie to realize Ichabod was perfect for her.

Abbie shrugged and shook her head. “Not really my thing. I don't plan on having any. Wouldn't mind pets though. But thanks for the compliment.”

“You're welcome, Dear,” Brigid commented. “More and more young people are making that decision, it seems.” She cocked her head. “Tell me, dear, how tall are you?”

Abbie blinked at her in confusion. “Oh! I'm 5’1. Sorry, the question just kind of threw me off,” she said with a shy laugh. “Normally when I tell folks I don't want kids they barrage me with questions about how my parents feel or if I think I might change my mind.”

Brigid knew an opening when she saw one. “Oh trust me,” she said. “My son got a vasectomy three years ago and didn't even bother telling me until a few days ago. So I know very well that when one says they don't want children, it's not my place to question it.”

At that, Abbie cocked her head. “Does Ichabod have a brother or sister that didn't want kids?”

Brigid laughed. “Ho, no my dear. After 29 hours of labor bringing all 62 centimeters and almost a quarter stone of Ichabod into this world, I decided I wanted no more of _that_.” Abbie's eyes widened. “He was a big boy. He was almost all forehead and legs.”

Abbie snorted and tried to cover a laugh. “He never mentioned anything about that to me. Huh.” Her gaze focused in the distance as if she were piecing something together in her lovely head.

“Well I'm certain you noticed he could post adverts on his forehead, sort of hard to miss,” Brigid teased. Abbie’s eyes danced as she tried not to laugh. "Honestly, if he tripped as a boy that would be the only thing to get bumped… Got it from his father. It’s quite the Crane trait."

“No, I meant the not wanting kids,” Abbie said softly.

“Oh,” Brigid squeaked. “Knowing Ichabod he was waiting for a dramatic reveal. If it doesn't have flare he won't utter a peep. And to make it worse, I think he does it all subconsciously.” She waved her hands dramatically. She sighed heavily and shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know where he gets all his theatrics… Even as a child he would wail like a widow and flop to the ground like a hot towel if the smallest thing went wrong.”

Abbie’s eyes glimmered with laughter as she shook her head. “Obviously he inherited that from his father, too.”

Oh, bless her, Brigid thought. Abbie truly was a dear. “Oh no… his father was such a quiet, staunchy, and serious man. So I guess it will just remain an eternal mystery.” She set out two cups and saucers. “Would you care for sugar or cream, dear?”

“Honey and a small dab of milk if you have it,” Abbie replied.

“My kinda lass,” Brigid preened, fetching the items. “So tell me, dear, whatever made you take up photographing kittens?”

Abbie grinned slightly. “Well, I had always enjoyed taking pictures and… my foster dad had this old camera that I would use. And one day I had the opportunity to um… upgrade I guess you could say. And so I took a class on photography and here I am.”

“Oh? Did you win the lottery?” Brigid asked, pouring tea.

Abbie shook her head. “My… foster dad passed away and he split everything between me, my sister, and his son. I got the family house to share with my sister but she spends more time with the son, her boyfriend, at his cabin by the lake.”

Brigid put the teapot down with a distressed sound. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Abbie said. “It’s okay. I would have loved to have had the same chance without having lost him, but I didn’t get that choice.” She shrugged a shoulder before reaching out to pat Brigid’s hand comfortingly. 

Suddenly it occurred to Brigid she could contact Ichabod to let him know Abbie was here. “Dear, would you mind if I took a photo of you to send to Ichabod? Might get him here quicker. Bills be damned.”

Abbie laughed softly. “Not at all,” she replied, smoothing her hands over her hair. “I look like a mess though…”

“Ah, bully, you're lovely dear,” Brigid preened. She fetched her phone and snapped a quick photo. “This is one of the few things I know how to work on this phone. Ichabod had to talk me through it so many times, but I finally learned…”

_Ichabod, you have a visitor_ Brigid texted and attached the photo.

Sure enough not even two minutes later he responded. _Just finished with paying bills. Traffic is a madhouse from construction_.

“It would seem Ichabod is caught in traffic,” Brigid sighed.

Abbie frowned. “Damn. Oh well. I have appointments that start soon,” she said with disappointment. 

“Perhaps you could stop by later…” Brigid suggested.

“I have a thing to go to tonight,” she said flatly. “I promised my sister I'd go hear her boyfriend's band at Mabie's tonight. Going to be doing photos of it for my portfolio. Just… I don't know. Just have him give me a call, to let me know what he thinks of the print. Thanks for the tea, Mrs Crane.”

Brigid scurried ahead of Abbie to get the door. “Do feel free to come by again soon,” she said. “My son doesn't really interact with many people, much less someone as lovely as you. He’s a good lad. Maybe a bit needy and dramatic at times but he means well...”

“I know he’s a good lad. You raised a wonderful son, Mrs. Crane,” Abbie chuckled. “Have a good afternoon.”

With a nod, Brigid showed Abbie out. She preened a moment before meandering back to the kitchen. She _had_ raised a fine son, hadn’t she? Brigid eyed Jane as she dipped her head into Abbie's tea and took a delicate lap. Jane's head jerked back and she shook her head with disgust. “Well that's what happens when you drink things you shouldn't,” she scolded lightly. “Now, to see if we can convince Ichabod to go to this Mabie's place tonight.”

Jane gave a long, soft meow, her little tail flicking gently. 

“Yes that means more alone time with Grandma, pretty girl,” Brigid enthused, then rubbed between Jane's ears. “How about I give you one of those treat sticks and when Daddy gets home you can pretend you've not had a thing all day and are wasting away.”

Jane stood on her hind legs to capture Brigid's hand and nuzzle it.

“Actually,” Brigid said after a moment. “I think I do prefer feline grandchildren to human ones after all.”

~*~

_Mabie's_.

He had heard of it as the place to be in Sleepy Hollow. It was one of those multi-purpose places with a bowling alley, bar, dance floor, and even a little diner on one end of the property, separate from the main building. Ichabod had driven past it many Friday and Saturday nights and ignored its existence like the plague.

Too many people, too much noise, too much of everything. Although he did enjoy the little diner. It was small. It was cozy. As long as he didn't go in late at night on the weekend it was quite pleasant. 

The entertainment hall, however, was another story. It was rowdy and full of people in various stages of inebriation. Inebriated people hurling large, heavy balls around. While the bowling balls were _supposed_ to go down the lanes, one rapidly rolled across Ichabod's path followed by a giggling woman with a beer in one hand.

Ichabod blinked against the flashing lights and cigarette smoke, looking for the bar area. He gave a sigh of relief when spotted it at the nearer back corner of the entertainment hall. At least the bar wouldn’t be _too_ bad. 

The colloquialism, "bitch you thought" popped into his head as soon as he walked into the bar area. He had made a grave and horrible assumption, for the place was packed full of people. There was a band on stage, which he could only assume was the target of Abbie's camera for that evening.

A chill coursed up his spine, his fingers flicked at his sides. _He could do this. Abbie was worth it_. He took in a deep breath then strode purposefully toward the rowdiest part of the bar… the stage.

The band was loud but made an appealing noise. The lead singer--and guitarist--alternated between actually singing and shrieking out words that made little sense in Ichabod's addled brain. All he could decipher was that it was _perhaps_ a love song about a girl named Jenny.

Finally, Ichabod located Abbie. She was upon the stage, kneeling to get different angles of the band as they played. His heart stammered gleefully. She was beautiful.

She still wore the crop top from the photograph Mum had sent him. But she had apparently changed into a jean miniskirt. So mini that he swore he saw the swell of her backside when she bent over too far.

Ichabod squeezed through the masses until he was near the stage. While he had seen her at work while photographing Jane, it seemed like an entirely different experience seeing her in the thick of an intense session. 

She moved just outside of the band’s sphere, getting what had to be dynamic shots of wannabe rockstars in the throes of their music. She knelt and swooped around like a lioness, snapping photos. Occasionally she tossed her hair over her shoulder but instantly went back to her craft. In the flashes of light Ichabod could see Abbie’s face between her shots, and the concentration made her look all the lovelier. His heart clenched at the thought and as if that sensation were audible, she glanced over and they locked eyes.

_I shouldn’t be here_, was his immediate thought. Ichabod knew she wanted space and yet here he was-- 

Before he could literally backpedal and get out of the loud, crowded hellscape, Abbie’s expression brightened and she winked at him briefly before turning back to the band and grabbing a few more shots. All the noise, all the people, all the heat and smell of sweat faded away into a gentle hum in the back of Ichabod's head as he remained transfixed, the lone person on the dancefloor not actually engaging in revelry all around.

Normally he would be embarrassed and be halfway out the door but Abbie turned back to him with a small smile and Ichabod vowed to remain rooted to the spot as she scurried off the stage and weaved through the crowd until she was standing right in front of him.

He opened his mouth to speak but only a faint nearly inaudible sound came out as Abbie took his hands. Her dark eyes twinkled mischievously as she guided him into the crowd, pressing against him when she found a space that would accommodate them both. “Dance with me, baby,” she said, smiling up at him, her camera hanging between them as she moved to the music.

Ichabod glanced around at the other couples to get an inkling of what to do. Ballroom dancing he could do without a passing thought. _This_, the rhythmic grinding and gyrating… this was beyond his sphere of experience. 

“I don't… I am uncertain as to how to…” he admitted.

Abbie flashed him an enigmatic smile before turning around to grind her ass against him. She reached back to grasp his shirt collar and pulled his ear close to her lips. “Pretend you're fucking me… in public with our clothes on.”

She was pleased with how quickly Ichabod took the cue. 

What she didn’t expect was her traitorous body reacting as it did. Abbie struggled to keep her leg from sliding up--she _would not_ climb Ichabod in the middle of the dance floor or hump his damn leg. Instead, she tried to pull her mind out of her vagina and concentrate on the music. 

Unfortunately, Ichabod took the chance to slide his big hand against the exposed skin of her back. Goosebumps erupted in the wake of his grazing fingers and Abbie gasped, her whole body tightening in need. She rolled her body against his in time with the music and leaned forward enough to highlight that she didn’t wear a bra with her top.

Ichabod’s hand drifted across Abbie’s toned stomach before he ventured north to run along with the crochet stitching that rose along the middle. Across the bottom portion of her cleavage, the yarn had been tied like a corset drawstring and when he cupped her breasts, they bounced deliciously. 

Ichabod prided himself on being a gentleman - his mother raised him right and he considered women worthy and equal and… and… 

And all he wanted to do was pick Abbie up and throw her over his shoulder like he was a caveman, so he could ravish her in his car and make her come as she screamed his name. The music was loud and though Ichabod leaned down to speak he had no idea what he intended to say. It was a moot point however when Abbie rose onto her tiptoes and met him halfway for a searing kiss.

When they eventually parted Ichabod found his hands full of Abbie’s ass and he squeezed before he could convince himself he should let go.

Abbie swore under her breath and had to close her eyes against the heat of Ichabod’s gaze. Where in the hell did he get off looking at her like that? Didn’t he know she was _this_ close to fucking him right here on the dance floor?

Fuck it.

Abbie grabbed Ichabod’s hand and practically yanked him off the dancefloor toward the other side of the bar. She must have had a look on her face because people would immediately part before she came too close. She yanked open a door and shoved all six foot one hundred inches of Ichabod Crane inside before slamming the door behind them.

Ichabod felt around for the light switch and flipped it on. They were in a surprisingly spacious bathroom considering the venue. Still, it came only stocked with a toilet stall, a sink and counter combo, and a mirror with a garish light shining down from overhead. The music had receded to a reasonable volume; Ichabod could almost hear himself think even if his heartbeat continued to mimic the baseline booming from the speakers. 

He opened his mouth to speak. To say something. Anything. 

Abbie spared him the trouble by hopping up to seat herself on the counter and pulling him close. Her small hands touched his beard as her eyes roamed over his face. She smiled impishly before trapping his hips between her legs and kissing him deeply.

Her fingers slid into his hair as she pressed her chest against him. A soft moan crept from his throat as she shifted her crotch against his. “You came,” Abbie murmured hotly.

“Not yet I haven't,” Ichabod teased, drawing a soft chuckle from his lover. “I had planned on you coming first.”

“Shut _up_,” Abbie laughed softly. God, she loved this big goof. Her heart stopped at that thought. _Love_? Looking at him, thinking of how he had always seemed so focused on her anytime they interacted, Abbie knew… _Absolutely_ that love was the appropriate word.

“I wish you could see what I see,” Ichabod murmured against her temple. “I have an idea.”

Abbie watched his gaze flick to something behind her. She gasped as he pulled back then whirled her around so she was bent over the counter. Her eyes widened as he held her in place with a knee between her legs then dragged the straps of her top down her arms. His focus stayed fixed on her reflection as he palmed her breasts then nibbled along her shoulder and neck. 

When he reached her ear, he darkly rumbled. “I want you to see how beautiful you are whilst I make your body clench around my cock.”

“Oh Jesus,” Abbie groaned. Fuck! Did he have any idea how wet she already was?

He grasped her hips, aligning their bodies before slowly sinking into her heat. Abbie shuddered. _Yes_, her body screamed. _This is what she had been wanting. This right here._

“Oh God,” Abbie moaned as Ichabod's hand fluttered up her body, back to her breasts. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, gently tugging on them as they hardened under his ministrations.

“Look how beautiful your face is, my love,” he sighed, thrusting hard against her, his eyes on the mirror. He cupped her chin gently to tilt her head so she could look with ease.

Abbie swallowed a loud noise that would have surely been heard out in the bar. She pressed a palm against the mirror, watching her body jostle and jerk in time to Ichabod’s thrusts. After only a quick glance at her own face, Abbie returned her attention to Ichabod's reflection. “I… can't…” she whimpered. 

Her feet kicked and her legs flailed as he hit just the right spot. “Oh fuck… oh fuck…” Abbie bit her lip, her head falling forward as she slapped the mirror. “Ahhhhhh… oooh… Ohhh… gggggmmmppphhh…”

“Do you want to come, Abbie,” Ichabod panted in her ear. 

“Fuck… yes!” Abbie squealed, then let out a low rasping groan. “Make me come, baby. Please.” She drew a knee onto the counter so she could take him deeper as her thighs spread further apart. Her eyes popped open as she felt his fingers start rubbing her clit rapidly. “Oh yeah… oh yeah… right there, baby. Oh shit… oh shhhheeeeee--”

A scream ripped between her lips as she came, her walls clenching hard on his dick. Soon enough Ichabod's thighs were saturated with her release and the bathroom smelled heavy of sex and was filled with the wet sounds of their bodies smacking together as he drew out Abbie's orgasm, until her arms gave out and she collapsed onto the counter. 

Ichabod grasped her hips and rutted into her. It wasn't long before he was finding his own release, with a loud groan.

They both simply panted hard for several minutes, recovering from what had just transpired. Abbie swallowed hard and lifted her head. A small sound came from deep inside her chest when she saw Ichabod braced over her, head bowed, practically gasping for breath. Her innermost walls clenched when he raised his head to meet her eyes in the mirror.

Ichabod lifted his hand and gently turned her head enough that he could kiss her hungrily. Abbie knew from that kiss, without a doubt, that the night was far from being over.

She whimpered as he withdrew, then turned her around so as to lift her onto the counter before continuing to kiss her. Abbie was pretty sure she could kiss him all night long and probably would have if someone hadn't smacked into the bathroom door then started pounding on it to see if it was occupied.

Ichabod growled softly then glared at the door.

“Occupied!” Abbie called.

There was silence for a minute, then Jenny's voice desperately called, “Hurry up or just let me in, Abbie, I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

“Uhhh… fuck,” Abbie whispered. She looked up at Ichabod. “My place or yours? Wait… your mom.”

“My mother sleeps wearing noise-canceling headphones,” he pointed out. “My place is closer.”

Nodding, Abbie slipped off the counter and adjusted her clothes until she was decent once again. Ichabod did the same before unlocking the bathroom door and opening it. The young woman on the other side blinked at him in surprise as he stepped out.

“Get. It. Abbie,” Jenny cackled.

Abbie just gave her sister a smug smirk and followed behind Ichabod, holding his hand. “Don't wait up,” she called just before Jenny dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.


	7. Seventh

“Mmm yeah, you like that don't you, Ichabod,” Abbie moaned, swirling her hips. He groaned loudly and his hands clamped down on her hips. She clutched the window ledge as his tongue did things between her legs that were probably illegal in super conservative states. "Mmm yeah… eat that pussy baby…"

The stars outside the window twinkled merrily. Outside the huge window, the world was in a late-night bustle. However, inside Ichabod's apartment, Abbie was currently straddling her lover’s face and was edging toward her second orgasm. And neither of them was even remotely bothered with getting naked just yet.

Suddenly, Abbie felt her body being lifted. Ichabod's strong hands held fast as he flopped her down onto the bed. She blinked up at the ceiling in confusion then grinned as Ichabod sat on his knees between her legs.

“Good God, I need to be inside of you,” he growled then yanked his shirt over his head without even bothering to unbutton it.

“Good, because that's exactly where I want you,” Abbie murmured, tracing her fingers along his shoulders and chest. She wondered again, about the scar and looked up into his eyes.

He leaned down to capture her lips, kissing her deeply, tasting her slowly. Abbie decided she would ask afterward. After all, she had a feeling this relationship was just getting started. Her heart leaped with glee at the thought.

Ichabod thrust between her thighs then grumbled as he pulled away. Abbie laughed as he fumbled with his belt and the fasteners of his trousers. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, grinning as she swatted his hands away. “Let me, you're too frustrated to concentrate,” she purred.

He remained still as a statue as she finished releasing his belt. Abbie slid her palm along the front of his trousers before delicately slipping the metal clasps free. Ichabod made a soft, growling sound as her fingers traced the outline of his cock. 

_Jesus_, Abbie thought with a shaky breath. He was hard as a rock. She had no doubt he'd put out a damn eye out if she wasn't careful. Her core clenched at the thought of him sliding inside of her, filling her with his thickness once again. Her own fingers began to fumble when she reached for the zipper and began to pull it down.

A wide grin split her face as she realized he wasn't wearing underwear. She hadn't exactly been given the opportunity to see earlier. “Look at you, you little tart,” she teased. “Not even wearing any underwear.”

Ichabod hurriedly worked his trousers down his legs and kicked them off. He looked down at himself then his eyes roamed over Abbie. “You’re overdressed,” he murmured, reaching for her hips. He pulled her closer.

Abbie yelped then giggled as she fell back against the bed. “You should do something about it,” she suggested.

“I’m trying to.”

He flicked the button of her skirt open and unzipped it. Abbie could feel every nerve ending on end as he pulled her skirt down her legs then threw it over his shoulders. Next came her thong, finally. With their go at the bar and when she had been riding his face, they had just impatiently pulled them aside. Ichabod eyed her, licking his lips hungrily. He reached for the little bow underneath her breasts and tugged it open. He pulled her to sitting up to drag the little top up and over her head.

“Good God, Aphrodite herself would be jealous of your beauty,” Ichabod rumbled.

He wasted no time in capturing her lips, cradling her face in his hands. Ichabod groaned as Abbie’s little hands rested against his chest then scratched down his stomach. Both of her hands grabbed hold of his cock and pumped him gently. _Fuck_, she couldn’t help but think. He was a good kisser. He was thorough and took his time to taste and savor as if memorizing her.

It made her weak. 

God, he was so perfect. Perfect in general and perfect for her. Abbie wasn’t sure if she could handle it. However, she was perfectly willing to try. She shivered when Ichabod’s fingers trailed down her neck and over her shoulders. Part of her knew they needed to have a talk with each other about what they wanted as far as the future came.

But that could wait for right now. Right now she wanted to feel his skin on hers. Abbie wrapped her arms around his neck as he grasped her waist, pulling her against him. "Ichabod," she half sobbed.

"Have patience, Treasure," Ichabod murmured. "We have nothing but time ahead of us."

"The hell we do," Abbie pouted. "I might be spontaneously combusting in a minute…"

She felt a momentary sense of victory when he smiled against her lips. It quickly faded away when he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes glimmering with mirth. "Oh? Let's see if it truly is possible…"

Abbie gasped dramatically. "You _ass_. You would have me just burst into flames instead of giving me what we both want?"

"Can't spoil you this early in the relationship, can I?" 

"Too late for that, I've been spoiled since day one," Abbie admitted softly. She ran her fingers through his hair and placed a kiss on his chin. "Nothing or no one has made me feel as happy and content as you…"

Ichabod took her face in his hands. "I am going to marry you someday."

Abbie arched a brow and grinned. "Oh really?" When he hummed in affirmation Abbie laughed. She almost wanted to cry from being so happy. “Well, thanks for letting me know."

Neither realized it at that moment but "someday" was a mere four months away. It would have been three if the venue they had wanted was available. But for now, it was just a distant idea in their heads. At this very moment, all they wanted was to be as close as possible. 

When kisses and touches were found to not be close enough, Ichabod sank into Abbie and both felt a sense of relief. There was no frantic rushing, no race to completion. Just them. Just two people who felt like they had finally found where they belonged. 

~*~

Abbie squirmed and giggled as Ichabod placed soft kisses on the sole of her foot. To say she was sated would be an understatement. She felt _full_. She felt complete. She felt… at peace. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt _comfortable_ laying uncovered and naked in the early morning light with someone else in the room. Maybe it was how comfortable Ichabod seemed to be in a similar situation. Or maybe it was because he always looked at her like she was perfection incarnate.

Not to mention he constantly _said it_. Not only did he say it but dammit he actually fucking meant it. The way his eyes widened and drank in every inch of her body, the way his pupils dilated, told her he thought she was beautiful. The way he took time to kiss every last inch of her--even the bottom of her feet--made her _feel_ beautiful.

“So why didn’t you tell me when I was spilling my sob story about my shitty ex?” Abbie asked, sitting up and folding her legs in front of her. Ichabod looked forlorn, then frowned before grabbing one of her ankles and pulling it back within reach of his lips. “Hey, you... _You_ with the foot fetish…” 

He gave her a cheeky grin before nuzzling the knob of her ankle. “I thought you would believe me to be, ah… what’s the word… _full of shit_,” he said matter-of-factly. “I knew if I had just bared my heart and soul and some devilishly handsome person swore to me they felt the same about children… I would have been dubious at the very least.”

“Fair point,” Abbie hummed. “So, to be straight. You don’t want children.” Ichabod shook his head. “I don’t want children.”

“As far as I am aware,” Ichabod murmured, lightly kissing his way up her calf. “And, if you change your mind, I can always have my procedure reversed if I too have had a change of heart.” 

Abbie drew in a deep breath. “This is weird,” she said. Ichabod cocked a brow. “In a good way. I mean it’s… we’re being upfront and honest. I… I believe the words you are speaking. And… stop giving me that look.”

“What look?”

“That one,” Abbie sighed. She put her hands over his face to block the shit-eating grin he had. “Anyway… And I feel like I can trust you… ack! Did you just lick me?” She yanked her hands from his face and wiped them on the blankets. If anything his expression had become even more shit-eating than before. “You’re nasty. Who goes around licking folks?”

“You don’t seem to mind when I do it in other places…” Ichabod preened, then pressed his tongue flat against her thigh and made one long wet path to her core. “Besides, you said it yourself, I’m devilishly handsome.”

Abbie gasped and fell back against the bed as he did the same between her legs, the tip of his tongue flicking her clit before he went back to the bottom and licked his way back up slowly. “No, you said yo-- Oh_shit_ that’s not fair,” she said breathlessly, her hand falling to the back of his head. “I’m not… I’m not done… ta… shit…_Mmmm_!”

Her thighs clamped around his head as her back bowed away from the bed. Jesus, he was really good at that. He took his time, teasing her to the edge of sanity and back to earth again. He only relented when she was writhing and whimpering to catch her breath after an orgasm that she swore made her see God. Abbie lay boneless in his arms afterward, he gently stroked her body, rubbing away the out-of-body awareness as her eyes rolled around trying to focus.

“Mmm,” she hummed. “You can’t keep doing that to… derail important conversations.”

“You’re the one that kept changing the subject, Treasure,” Ichabod teased, kissing her neck. 

“I can’t even remember what I was gonna say,” Abbie drawled.

“You were telling me how I was a handsome devil that you worry has lured you into a false sense of security,” Ichabod supplied.

“Was I?”

Ichabod nodded. “And I was going to vow to you that I would do everything within my power to make you trust yourself and your heart once again. That you needn’t worry about ever again getting your heartbroken.”

“Oh really?” Abbie chuckled. “You don’t know me. You don’t know my life… So don't act like you know how the entire conversation would go.” She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, you’re _not wrong_ but…”

“See, that is exactly how it would go!” He rolled over, pinning her beneath him. “And then I would suggest we go shower together before my mother wakes up and I’d ravish you against the shower wall.” Ichabod flounced off of the bed and held his hand out to her. Abbie grinned and took his hand, letting him lead the way.

~*~

Brigid hummed happily as she made breakfast. She had spent all night with Jane curled up in the curve of her neck. Now the kitten was sitting outside the bathroom door, waiting for Ichabod to come out, her tail swishing impatiently. Just a few minutes ago, Brigid had woken up and taken out her headphones, only to be greeted by the loud moaning coming from the bathroom intermingled with the sound of the shower.

Even if her son hadn’t managed to locate the pretty photographer, she supposed it was nice that he did find himself a friend while he had been out. At least she hoped that was two voices she had heard. 

He didn’t really make friends all that easy since he and his former best mate apparently played musical chairs with his former betrothed. It had all been a messy fiasco and the tart had been liking Ichabod’s pictures recently, so Brigid was glad he was thus far avoiding the woman. 

Brigid hadn’t cared for Katrina. She was far too tall and seemed to float right out of that old Dolly Parton song to boot! Abbie, on the other hand, she was a respectable height and had such a warm personality. She didn’t want children and adored Jane. Absolutely perfect for her son! 

She turned and gave the bathroom door an incredulous frown. Goodness. She had no idea her son was so vocal. Although it shouldn't have come as a huge surprise. Despite the fact he didn’t socialize much, it was practically impossible to get him to shut up once one got him to talk. 

Brigid was back to humming happily when the bathroom door opened. She didn’t even look up when she heard her son swear and his female friend squeak as he urged her back into the bathroom. 

“_Mother could you please avert your eyes_,” she heard Ichabod call from the bathroom.

“Oh, come now, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before or don’t have myself,” Brigid called, rolling her eyes. “I’m looking at the stovetop, for now, scurry on then. But next time remember to take your bathrobe.”

She chuckled as she heard the rapid shuffle of feet and then his bedroom door close. This was followed shortly by Jane’s soft _meow_ and the door opened and closed again to let her in. A few minutes later, her son emerged from the bedroom just as she was plating up breakfast. He had dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt. His lady friend followed behind him, shyly, wearing one of his old university shirts, her curls hastily bound up in a riotous high ponytail. She was cradling Jane in her arms like a baby.

Brigid beamed brightly. “Oh, fancy seeing you again Miss Abigail. Would you care for a bit of breakie? I made plenty when I realized my son had company.”

Abbie ducked her head, hiding her face behind one hand as she slipped into one of the seats at the island, next to Ichabod. “Oh my _God_,” she whispered. She then cleared her throat. “Yes, please.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “So, Mrs. Crane, Ichabod tells me you like skating…”

Ichabod’s eyes widened as Brigid sighed and looked at her son pointedly. “If that’s what he said he’s a bloody liar... “ She looked at Abbie. “Then again he may have said that to sort of put his own mind at ease. I’m _actually_ the captain of a roller derby team back home. You should see me and the other lasses from the senior center...” She made gestures as though elbowing an opponent. “We give those youngins quite a run for their money…”

Abbie’s mouth dropped open before she began to laugh. 

~*~

A whirlwind.

This was one of the rare instances in which Abbie could ever remember being able to describe a relationship as an honest to God whirlwind. She thought her relationship with Calvin had been a whirlwind. But in hindsight, it had been more of a whirl_pool_\--dragging her down and drowning her.

Two months into making her relationship with Ichabod officially _a thing_. He had taken her for a stroll in the park. As they meandered hand-in-hand, he had asked if she wanted an engagement ring. She agreed it would be nice. So they went and picked out an engagement ring and wedding rings.

While she wouldn’t have put it past Ichabod to have _wanted_ to do a whole entire chorus line and a ticker-tape parade to propose, they both knew simple and subtle was their schtick. 

He had asked when she wanted to get married. When she shrugged and said “next month?” they had set to trying to find a place. Because, while they would both be fine with a courthouse wedding, Brigid Lea Crane refused to let Abbie have a courthouse wedding. It could be small, it could be simple, but it absolutely would not be in a courthouse!

One venue, in particular, struck both of their fancies but didn’t have an opening until late November. Just as they had started to decide to wait until November, Abbie received a call from the venue: There had been a cancellation in early August.

On the one hand, it sucked for the wedding that had been going to take place. On the other hand, they were willing to wait one extra month to get married. Besides, Abbie still had to get a dress and all the other amenities that went along with getting married. More often than not, Abbie would make her deposits and a few days later she would receive a receipt as showing her things had been paid for in full. 

While the receipt would say anonymous, Abbie had no doubt her soon-to-be mother-in-law had paid the bill. Mostly because Brigid was even worse than Ichabod at feigning innocence and insisted it was obviously the wedding fairy.

There had been drama. _God had there been drama_ in the final month leading up to the wedding. From dealing with Ichabod’s ex to watching the clock on dress alterations, rehearsals to finding an actual officiant… it was definitely something Abbie never wanted to do again. Which was just as well because Brigid insisted that she didn’t take refunds, once they were married, Ichabod was Abbie’s to do with as she pleased.

Ichabod figured the very least he could do would be to find another photographer for their special day. He didn’t want Abbie _touching_ a camera unless she felt overcome with the need to chronicle something herself. Maybe he would bring a camera of his own for such an eventuality. 

So he considered it kismet to be out after having dropped the deposit at the caterer across from the park when he saw what appeared to be a small photoshoot. Anything photography related drew his attention lately - including Abbie - so Ichabod jogged across the street and into the park to get a better look. 

An African-American man quietly but efficiently called out orders as two men hovered just out of view with large lights trained upon a man and a woman impeccably dressed in what could only be described as wedding attire. Ichabod smiled and hung back to watch the shoot, realizing with each adjustment of the couple in front of the camera and the odd contorts the man put himself in that _this_ would be their wedding photographer. 

“Alright, last one,” the man said as he knelt down before the couple. He was right in the path of the sun and Ichabod puzzled over the photographer’s choice of placement as he directed the couple to go in for a kiss. Just before their lips touched he barked at them to stop and his camera snapped furiously. “Got it,” he cheered as he jumped to his feet. He thumbed back to the pic he wanted and nodded with satisfaction. “This one will go on your wedding album,” he said as he turned the viewscreen to the couple.

The woman gasped and blinked, eyes wide with tears. “It’s… That’s us?”

The man laughed and hugged her close. “Yes, it is,” he laughed before he reached out to the photographer. “Thanks, Cal. I think you more than lived up to the hype.”

Cal chuckled and bowed briefly. “Thank you, thank you. It helps when the camera loves the lucky couple. You two are easily the most photogenic people I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”

The man jerked his chin toward Ichabod, who stood awkwardly off to the side behind Cal. “I think someone else would like to hire you,” he said.

Ichabod hoped his face didn’t flush as hot as he felt it did as he stepped forward with a nod. “Ichabod Crane,” he offered as a greeting, moving forward to shake hands. “Apologies; I didn’t want to interrupt your work.”

“All done now, so no harm done. Name’s Cal. So are you in the market for a photographer, Ichabod?” he asked as he nodded for his staff to begin breaking down the equipment.

"I am," he replied with a nod. "My bride and I are planning to wed on August 18th, here in this very park." Ichabod sighed contentedly, feeling joy at referring to Abbie as his _bride_.

Cal looked taken aback for a moment. "That's pretty soon. And you haven't hired a photographer yet?"

"It was a bit spur of the moment, really," Ichabod commented. "We've only met a few months ago but…"

Cal chuckled. "Trying to lock it down before the baby comes huh?"

"Heavens no," Ichabod scoffed. "Oh, my apologies, that must have sounded rather harsh. My future wife and I do not wish to have children. We're getting married because we want to not because of any sort of social conventions." He looked away toward the gazebo they would be using in their wedding. "We just knew… we were perfect for each other."

"I miss that feeling," Cal commented. "Give me a second to check my calendar…" he pulled out his phone and scrolled through a few things. "I don't normally shoot on Sunday's but… I'm gonna be honest. I could use the work.”

“My future wife, herself is a photographer and stays fairly busy, but her plate is already considerably full that day, we needn’t have her also acting as our photographer,” Ichabod commented. “Do you have a card that I can pass on to her?”

Cal patted his pockets. “I sure do… let me see if I can… Ah… here we go.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it over. “It has my Instagram and Twitter links on there too if y’all want to see what I’m capable of. What’s your name?”

“Ichabod Crane.”

“Well, I’ll certainly remember that one,” Cal laughed. “It’s not a name you hear every day. What about the future missus?”

Ichabod breathed in deeply, his chest puffing out with pride. “Miss Grace Abigail Mills. Owner and proprietor of Amazing Grace Photography.” He was so caught up in enjoying the thought of marrying Abbie that he missed the stunned head shake from Cal.

“Yeah, so give that card to your lady, and if she still wants me to do it then… Then I’d be more than happy to,” Cal said heavily.

Ichabod felt the awkwardness in the air but couldn’t figure out where it came from. “Thank you,” he said and shook the photographer’s hand. The entire way home, he was on cloud nine. He felt accomplished and like he had helped. Upon arriving home, he gave Abbie a kiss on the cheek while she did photo edits on her laptop on the breakfast island, Jane in her lap napping.

She peered at him over the top of her glasses. “You look like you’ve accomplished something,” she commented with a little smile.

“I was at the park today and a gentleman was doing a photo shoot for a wedding party,” Ichabod preened. Abbie sat up straight and removed her glasses with interest. “I know you’ve had trouble finding a photographer since the one Makena recommended would be out of town the week of our wedding. He seemed fairly adept at his job.”

Abbie hummed with interest, propping her elbows on the counter and putting her chin on his fists. She smiled softly. “Did you get a name or business card, babe?”

Ichabod puffed out his chest with pride and presented Abbie with a simple business card. His face fell when she laughed. That wasn’t her normal amused laugh, that was the laugh she used when something was ironically funny. “Is… something remiss?”

“Did you… by chance ask the guy his name before getting the card?” Abbie aske, her eyes glittering with bemusement.

“He said his name was _Cal_,” Ichabod said with uncertainty. Abbie turned the card around so he could read the name, his heart instantly plummeted. _Calvin Riggs Cal R. Photography_. “Oh dear… I profusely apologize… forget I even--”

Abbie shook her head. “You didn’t know it was him,” she said simply. She pursed her lips in thought. “_But_... he is good at his job. On the other hand, it might be a little messy to hire him as our wedding photographer.”

“Are you certain?” Ichabod asked.

Abbie laughed, this time a full-bodied amused laugh. “We’re all grown-ass adults. Besides, he’s just some guy to me now,” she pointed out. She held out her hand which Ichabod eagerly took. Abbie pulled him to her. “Why would I fret over him when I got your sweet, sexy little ass?” She cocked her head curiously. “Would it bother you to have my ex shoot our wedding?”

“My concern would be your mental well-being,” Ichabod said in earnest. “Also that _he_ may not behave as a _grown ass adult_ and intentionally ruin the photographs.”

“How about this… I have a couple of people I’m considering,” Abbie said. “I can put together a few samples and you can go through and pick your favorite ones. Whichever photographer has the most, gets to do our wedding.”

_Maow_. 

They both glanced down to see Jane peering up at them from Abbie’s lap. Ichabod reached down and gave the kitty scratches behind her ears. Jane kneaded Abbie’s thigh happily and purred loudly. “I love that idea, Abigail,” Ichabod murmured, then gave her a quick kiss. He leaned down to place a kiss atop Jane’s head.

He looked at Abbie and grinned when her breath hitched. “What was that?”

“You know I get excited anytime your face goes that direction, can’t fault me for that,” Abbie teased. She took off her glasses and set them on the counter. “Do you need cuddle time after your time out today?”

Truth be known, he was having a remarkably good day. But he would never, in a million years turn down cuddle time with Abbie. “No, but I could certainly use some _just because_ cuddle time.”

Abbie lifted Jane out of her lap and hugged her to her chest. She gave Jane cheek kisses and, using a baby voice said, “Let’s go have cuddle time with Daddy.” 

Ichabod took Abbie’s hand and the three of them went to their bedroom for some well-deserved cuddling.


	8. Eighth & Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion

Ichabod’s fingers couldn’t stay still. When he tried to straighten his shirt, his fingers fidgeted so restlessly he had to stop and shake his hands. He tried to do up his tie but his hands refused to comply. His hands had forever been a visual guide for Brigid to recognize when her son was on the verge of an anxiety attack. It started with the hands and, if left unchecked, could go all the way up to his laying on the sofa crying.

Brigid hustled over and swatted his hands out of the way. “You and Abbie are such a lovely couple,” she offered gently. “I’m certain the pair of you have decades of love ahead of you.” She wrenched his shirt straight and shoved the tails into the waistline of his trousers. He objected every second but it wasn’t like he was in any sort of state to do it himself. “I think your father would adore Abigail as much as I do.”

Jane whirled eagerly around his ankles and meowed up at him. Brigid reached down and picked the kitten up, placing her in Ichabod’s arms. “Here, hold this would you, son?” Brigid suggested. 

Ichabod sank into a chair and Jane nuzzled his face. He nuzzled her in return. The sight was made adorable by the fact Jane was in a pink dress for the wedding. Her son chuckled when Jane started licking his nose. “What’s got you on edge, son?” Brigid asked. He had better not be getting cold feet, she silently pleaded. 

He hummed with contentment for a moment before replying. “What if I don’t make Abbie happy?” Ichabod looked up, it occurred to Brigid that it wasn’t the first time he had thought about this. He had thought about it, he had brushed it aside, then thought about it again. Then maybe he saw Abbie frown because she had stubbed her toe. Somehow he thought that frown was his fault. That he had failed Abbie in some way. And the thought took root and festered to the point he was worried he was about to ruin Abbie’s life.

Brigid smacked her son in the back of the head. He made a stunned sound and shook his head to clear it. “Enough of that nonsense, son,” Brigid scolded. “You make her incredibly happy.” He opened his mouth to speak. “She’s not marrying you because she doesn’t have the heart to tell you she’s miserable.” A scowl from Ichabod, he sucked in a breath and opened his mouth again. “She’s not marrying you because she feels sorry for you.”

At that, Ichabod deflated, his arguments pushed to the wayside. “But why?” he finally asked, rubbing his cheek against Jane’s head. 

“Why is she marrying you?” Brigid asked. She put her fists on her hips “Because she loves you, you _dolt_. And…” She waited for Ichabod to lower Jane to his lap to step forward and take care of his tie. “...because you make her happy.”

Ichabod looked dubious for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Brigid kissed her son’s forehead. “You’re as bad as your father,” she chuckled. “Do you know, he rang me up on our wedding day to make sure I liked him? _No_, you shouldn’t call her to ask her if she still likes you.” 

“But should I at least call her to make sure she’s doing well?” Ichabod asked, the phone already in hand.

Brigid eyes her son a moment. "Not right now, wait until about an hour before the wedding. That's when she'll need it. I know I tried to leg it around that time until your father came to talk to me around the door..."

Ichabod paled. “You’re joking, right?”

Brigid laughed softly as she shook her head. “I would’ve fled the church in my dress, screaming. But he did for me what he always did. Kept me calm, reminded me I wasn’t alone and that I did want to spend the rest of my life with him, just by humming a few bars of the song we first shared a dance to. You know your father couldn’t sing to save a life.”

Ichabod smiled; he remembered seeing his father gently guide his mother around the dining room table, strains of “Because You’re Mine” playing in the background as they swayed in each other’s arms. “You were happy,” he said, too sure to pose it as a question.

“Undoubtedly. Through good times and bad there’s not much I would change about how it happened, especially everything that led me to your father. Don’t you think it’s time for you to have some of the same?” Brigid asked.

“I just want us to be happy,” he admitted. “Like you and father.”

“Then you’ll have to work at it,” she said. “Love isn’t a passive thing; it’s living and breathing and changes every day sometimes. You’ve got to learn to listen more to your partner than that voice in your head telling you everything is wrong. Trust that Abbie will tell you if she’s unhappy and trust yourself to do the same. No successful marriage is one-sided, love.” Brigid scooped Jane up and rubbed the tiny feline beneath the chin. “Now, let’s go welcome Abbie into our family, aye?”

Ichabod bobbed his head, fighting back the nervousness. “Aye.”

~*~

T minus one hour and where was Abbie?

Trying to wrestle her way out her wedding gown in a fucking public park restroom. Not an ideal location but it was either that or wear piss-yellow down the aisle. 

Jenny doesn’t bother to hold in her laughter. "I warned you before we got you into this thing… speak now or forever hold your pee," she giggled. 

“I didn’t see you keeping those three water bottles away from me though,” Abbie snapped. The dress was a closely tailored cream affair that had sheer beading above her sweetheart neckline and down her arms, cinched tightly as it skimmed her hips and descended into a mermaid flare consisting of more tulle than made sense.

“And I asked you before we closed you up in this thing. _Twice_,” Jenny added.

"I didn't have to go at the time!" Abbie wailed, gently pulling her hand through her sleeve as to not rip the delicate, barely-there netting.. She sighed heavily. "What if this is a sign, Jenny?"

Jenny cocked a brow. "A sign for what, exactly? That you should listen to your younger sister once in a while? I agree wholeheartedly. You have never gone wrong by listening to me. I mean, look at you. Getting married to… well… I _would_ say handsome but Joe is out there. 

“Can't say anyone is handsome when he's around, you know. Cause everyone else is fugly in comparison. I almost feel sorry for the groom having that sexy beast as his best man. Suck in those hips, damn it."

Abbie wrinkled her nose and did the impossible as her sister forced the material down into a pile of beading and tulle, stepping out of her dress at long last. "Jenny…"

"Okay, so it's a sign you shouldn't chug what equates to a liter of water while being sewn into a fancy gown?" Jenny suggested, folding her arms over her chest as Abbie plopped down on the toilet. "Or maybe you didn’t really need a push-up bra in that dress? What? I'm trying to figure out what it's a sign for because it's sure as hell, not a sign that you shouldn't be marrying Ichabod."

Relief made her deflate as she sagged against the rough-hewn stall. "You sure?" Abbie sighed.

"An ass like that? I'm sure," Jenny nodded. Abbie snorted and shook her head. "Besides… when mine and Joe's little demon spawn comes we'll need all the backup we can get."

Cocking a brow, Abbie eyed her sister as she sat up straight, trying to force spontaneous generation of x-ray vision as she peered at Jenny’s abdomen. "When your… are you pregnant?"

"God no, not yet," Jenny grunted, arranging Abbie's gown in an elegant puddle on the floor. "But Joe's been hinting that he's getting ready to propose. Which means babies soon after. You know he wants plenty of time to wrestle and do football and all those other cheesy suburban dad things he’s always dreamt of."

"What if everything goes wrong?" Abbie fretted. "We've only _known_ each other for four months!"

"It won't," Jenny assured. "What I do know is there is a nice man that you adore out there waiting for you. Who is eager and ready to make you the happiest woman alive. _And_ he has a cute kitten that you love. Besides, Makena told me what she got y’all for a wedding gift and trust me, you don’t want to have to return it."

Abbie finished her business and stood, nodding sternly. "Jane really is adorable…" She let out a heavy breath. 

Jenny nodded happily. “Absolutely. We should get you back into your dress.”

For a moment, Abbie eyed the dress. If she put it back on, there was no turning back, in her mind. There was no shame in telling everyone that she wanted to wait a little longer before getting married. Hell, plenty of people had commented on the fact her and Ichabod decided to take the plunge so quick. She had lost count of how many people had insinuated--with a look or by flat out asking--she was pregnant, not knowing Ichabod had made sure that was next to impossible.

A gentle knock sounded at the bathroom door. It pushed open just a smidge. “Abigail, are you alright? Joseph said you ran down here with Jenny chasing after you. He said you looked panicked.” 

Abbie felt her heart soar at the sound of Ichabod’s voice floating to her ears. “I had to go to the bathroom. Made the mistake of chugging a liter of water on the way over.” She stepped around Jenny and stood so she could see him in the raggedy mirror over the sink. He wasn’t even looking at the door, opting to look everywhere except into the bathroom. “Are _you_ alright?”

There was a hesitation, then a soft but assured, “Yes. Because today I plan to marry the most wonderful person I have ever met. If she is still amenable to the suggestion.”

Abbie glanced at Jenny then at Ichabod’s reflection. “What if… what if I wanted to wait another year?”

“Then we would wait another year,” he replied.

“What if… I wanted to wait another twenty years?”

“Then we would wait twenty years. I would wait however long it took for you to feel assured if that is what you wanted,” Ichabod said gently. “Is that what you want?”

Silence lingered between them for a long moment. Abbie felt herself slowly smile. “No. I want to do it today. Which means I need to get my dress back on instead of standing here naked.”

Abbie laughed when Ichabod _immediately_ looked through the gap in the door and caught her reflection in the mirror. His eyes glimmered wickedly. “I am certainly getting you back for that one later.”

“Promise?” Abbie asked, tilting her head cutely. He just smirked and let the door close. Taking a deep breath, Abbie turned toward Jenny. 

“Well?” Jenny prompted.

“I’m getting married,” Abbie laughed. 

“When?”

“Today,” she said firmly.

“Well hallelujah. Let’s get this dress back on so you can get married.”

And so, on August 18th, which coincidentally was also Ichabod's birthday, they were married in an outdoor wedding underneath a huge gazebo at the Sleepy Hollow Veteran's Memorial Park. Not only did Calvin have to see Abbie marrying the perfect partner, but he had to watch Makena getting chatted up by one of Ichabod's cousins at the reception.

Later, no one could deny it was some of his best work in years. 

** _Two years later..._ **

Brigid was busily cleaning in preparation for the new arrival. Jane, now fully grown and magnificently sleek coated, sat perched on the kitchen counter watching her fret. Surely the flat needed to be cleaner? It didn’t do well for a place to be so dusty with a new baby about to be arriving. Surely there were places she had missed.

Oh, the past two years had been an adventure and a half. She had been so pleased when, after only three months of courtship, her son had proposed to Abbie. Brigid hadn’t so much liked it when Katrina tried to start drama between them, but that had been put to rest almost as quickly as it had started. The two kids had gotten themselves married and now…

A new baby was on its way home!

Brigid jumped when her phone chimed and clamored for her phone. It was a text from Ichabod. It was simply one word: _**lift**_

“They’re in the lift, Jane,” Brigid said excitedly. She hadn’t actually met the new baby herself just yet. But she had been kept informed at each step. She had been so delighted when they said they were thinking of adopting… then had gotten approved… and then they said they found the perfect addition to their family and were going to have a couple of meets to make sure it was a good match. And now… now the day had come! 

She sucked in a deep breath and settled into a seat at the kitchen counter just moments before she heard the front door unlock and open.

Ichabod entered first, a basket of goodies for the new little one in one arm. Abbie followed behind, cradling a pink swaddled bundle in her arms. They immediately gravitated over. Ichabod gave Brigid a kiss on the cheek then kissed the top of Jane’s head as he set the basket down on the counter. Abbie kissed Brigid’s other cheek then rubbed Jane’s ears with one hand.

Jane chirped happily and whirled around eagerly, vying for more attention. Ichabod scooped her up and cradled her in his arms, rubbing her belly and giving her nuzzles.

“Let’s meet this new grandbaby, then,” Brigid chimed. “Did you two ever decide on a name?”

“We did.” Abbie chuckled and stepped close enough to ease the bundle into Brigid’s arms. “We’re just glad you’re so excited,” Abbie said. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Brigid said as she started to unswaddle the baby. “It’s not every day one gets a new grand… baby.” She looked down at the sweet little face and sighed lightly, trying not to be disappointed when the tiny calico kitten _mew_ed up at her. A kitten. They had adopted a _kitten_. Why had she expected anything different from her cheeky son?

“Her name is Agatha Christie Crane,” Ichabod informed. “We finally decided after Abbie noticed how she liked to investigate everything.”

“Isn’t she the cutest thing you’ve seen since Jane?” Abbie enthused. Jane sniffed at the kitten, hissed, then ran to the living room.

Abbie’s face was practically aglow with joy. There was no way she would let her daughter-in-law know she was disappointed. Mostly in Ichabod for not _telling her_ they were adopting a _kitten_. If she had known that was the case she never would have booked a flight over! Oh, heavens, what was she going to tell Silvia? She’d be the laughing stock!

“She is absolutely adorable, Abigail,” Brigid said sweetly, then gave the kitten a kiss between the ears. “We should take her to the living room and let her and Jane get used to each other!”

“You’re right,” Abbie said with a decisive nod. “We should.” She took Agatha from Brigid and scurried to the living room, softly calling for Jane. Abbie went into the bedroom. _Aww, Jane don’t be like that, baby…_

Brigid gave her son a pointed glare once she was certain Abbie was too distracted to hear. “Why didn’t either of you bother to tell me you were adopting a _kitten_, Ichabod?”

Ichabod smirked cheekily. “Things have been hectic with the studio since Jenny’s been getting ready for maternity leave. Must have slipped my mind.”

“You little shite,” Brigid grumbled as her son slowly took steps away before bounding to the living room. Slipped his mind? His eidetic mind? The cheeky little bastard. But at the very least she could stick around and wait for Jenny to have her baby. A grandniece was just as good as a grandbaby after all, and Jenny didn’t have her own mum about! Surely she could appreciate having a matronly presence around to help her after the babe was born!

And of course to help out with her new grand kitten.

Brigid’s smile turned smug. “Beat that, Silvia.”


End file.
